Beginnings
by The Yuggster
Summary: A young Estel and his brothers travel to Mirkwood to participate in an archery tournament, and Estel and Legolas meet for the first time. Based on a reference made in What Hope I Can Offer. Contains spoilers to The Hobbit.
1. The Palace of the Elvenking

_Title_: Beginnings

_Author_: Yuggster

_Genre_: Action/Adventure

_Rating_: T

_Spoilers_: Some for _The Hobbit_.

_Disclaimer_: When I tried to sue Peter Jackson for copyright infringement my lawyer was kind enough to remind me that I own none of it. Then he called me crazy and the men in white coats came to take me away again. So unless I want to face more time in the nice padded room I'll have to say that Middle-Earth and all its inhabitants are the sole creation of J.R.R. Tolkien, and all characters and places taken from his masterpiece do not belong to me in any way.

_Author's Note_: This story was inspired by an event in my first story, _What Hope I Can Offer_. Basically, it's the story of the archery tournament Legolas mentioned as the first time he and Aragorn met. Since this story takes place when Aragorn is fourteen, he is going by the name Estel throughout the story. As in my last story, Aragorn was raised as a foster-son of Elrond, and Legolas was born near the end of the Watchful Peace. This is my first really long story, so I'm both excited about it and really nervous about how it'll be accepted.

I cannot speak any form of Elvish to save my life, so the only Elvish words I've put in this story are those used as nicknames or pronouns (such as 'Ada' when used as Thranduil's name, but 'father' when he's being referred to, such as "my father says...").

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Chapter One: The Palace of the Elvenking

"Just wait until you see the Wood-Elves' palace, Estel!"

Fourteen-year-old Estel smiled at his brothers, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. They had been telling him this for the past three days, ever since the trio had neared the borders of Mirkwood.

"Yes, but do not let King Thranduil intimidate you. He is a king, but he is still just an elf like Ada."

Estel shook his head, grinning knowingly to himself. Elladan and Elrohir were convinced he was going to be terrified of the ruler of Mirkwood to the extent that they had spent the last _four_ days telling him there was nothing to be afraid of. "Oh, but what if I make him angry?" he asked teasingly.

Elladan took the question seriously. "As long as you stay on your best behavior he shouldn't have any reason to be angry."

"Just do not call his palace a cave."

"Even if it is built under the mountain."

"And do not mention anything about dwarves."

"We did once and this vein in the middle of his head started throbbing."

"It was entertaining, but not something you should bring up."

"And try not to confuse his children's names."

"But if you cannot remember, 'My Lord' and 'My Lady' will do."

"Steer clear of Belegdur if you can, he does not care much for humans."

"Or dwarves. Or hobbits. Or anything that's not an elf."

"Or, really, any elves that are not from Mirkwood."

"But he should be able to tolerate you since you are Lord Elrond's adopted son."

"And if he cannot he will have to deal with us."

"Which should be frightening enough for someone like him."

"However, you and Legolas should get along just fine."

Estel sighed, blocking out the rest of his brothers' conversation. When they got going like this it could make one's head whirl, and they usually didn't even realize what they were doing. He was just glad that they had each been speaking complete sentences rather than finishing each other's.

He let his mind drift away, automatically nodding to his brothers' advice and instructions. They had not stopped talking about Legolas, either—though that had been going on for quite a while. In fact, his brothers had spent the last few years talking about the youngest prince of Mirkwood, insisting that he and Estel would make good friends.

And now he would finally meet him. Estel could not help but feel excited. If Legolas was one-tenth what his brothers said he was he'd be a great elf. He'd been trying to imagine what Legolas could look like ever since he'd learned of this tournament. According to Elladan and Elrohir, Legolas was almost their height with bright blonde hair and deep blue eyes—which automatically made Estel think of Lord Glorfindel. He could not quite get the image of the Balrog-slayer out of his mind, so he ended up with a mental picture of a younger, shorter Glorfindel every time he thought of Legolas. When he had confided this to Elrohir, the dark-haired elf had laughed and explained that Legolas looked nothing like Glorfindel, but almost exactly like Thranduil.

Estel grimaced slightly. Truth be told, he _was_ nervous about meeting King Thranduil. Granted, there had been a somewhat shaky alliance between Imladris and Mirkwood for many centuries now, but the stories he had heard of the Wood-King's temper had frightened him as a child.

Shaking his head to dispel his unease, Estel turned his thoughts to the upcoming tournament. He knew his brothers were planning to compete in the archery tournament, but he was too young to do anything but watch. As a human, he would never reach the minimum age for an elf but had he been an adult he might have been able to join. Elladan and Elrohir had explained that the elves of Mirkwood held an archery tournament every twelve years, but this was the first time in millennium that Thranduil had opened it to elves of other realms.

"Just in time, too," Elladan had said. "Had they waited another twelve years Estel would have been too grown up and off with the rangers to have wanted to come with us."

Estel bit back a laugh at this memory. He could remember that day clearly, the day when his father, Elrond, had received word that the tournament was being opened. Lord Elrond had hoped that this could possibly shore up the rather shaky relations between Mirkwood and Imladris, and thus the twins and Estel had come to Mirkwood.

Not that Elladan and Elrohir wouldn't have come anyway, Estel reasoned. He was sure they would have, just to have a chance to spend time with the famous Legolas.

"And whatever you do," Elrohir said, suddenly whirling around to look Estel straight in the eye, dispelling the human's thoughts and grabbing his attention, "do not call Princess Luinlothiel 'Lady Luni'."

Estel couldn't quite hold in a snicker. "I know, Elrohir," he managed to say around the laugh. "You have told me that at least four times. How much farther do we have to go to get to the palace?"

Elladan grinned. "Do you not see it?" he asked, pointing to the large stone wall ahead of them. It was easily twelve or fifteen feet high, with a large gate guarded by two brown-haired elves.

The gate was open, revealing the well-manicured gardens within. Estel's heart was pounding as they approached the gate, stated their names to the guard, and entered. Grooms came to take their horses, leaving the three brothers standing on the cobblestone pathway before the palace.

As his brothers had said, the palace was cut directly into the mountain. He could see balconies jutting out at various levels, and small porches and alcoves that had been built out from the palace. To the left were stables and a wide, open lawn. To the right were gardens and orchards.

Estel was lost in awe of the entire place as he followed Elladan and Elrohir down the path, over a bridge that crossed the river that ran through the grounds and under the palace.

The great doors of the Wood-King's palace opened, and out stepped a slight, blond-haired figure. The elf stood at the top of the steps, looking down on the visitors for a moment.

"Welcome, strange travelers," the elf announced in a merry voice. Elladan and Elrohir looked up, gawking at the newcomer.

"Legolas!" Elrohir shouted as he and his twin pelted up the steps and tackled the elf. Estel laughed as he followed at a more sedate pace, shaking his head at the picture the three elves tangled on the top of the stairs presented.

"Legolas, this is our brother, Estel," Elladan announced, pulling Legolas up and dragging him down the stairs.

Elrohir sprinted to Estel's side and pushed him forward. "And Estel, this is Prince Legolas."

Estel cleared his throat and extended his hand. "It is nice to finally meet you, Legolas," he said. He studied the prince, knowing the elf was doing the same to him. As his brothers had said, Legolas looked nothing like Glorfindel except for the eye and hair color. He was slightly smaller than Elladan and Elrohir, his build that of an archer rather than a swordsman. But what Estel was struck with the most was the elf's youth. From the stories he had been expecting someone his brothers' age, but Legolas looked to be much younger. Yes, age was hard to tell in adult elves, but having grown up in Imladris Estel could hazard a guess at this elf's age and he couldn't imagine him being much older than four hundred, maybe five.

"I am glad to meet you as well," Legolas replied, grasping his hand firmly. "I am pleased to see that you, at least, show some sense of decorum," he added with a playful glare at the twins.

Elladan bowed mockingly. "Forgive us, Prince. We had forgotten that his highness was of the royal family and not worthy of our more lowly traditions."

"Aye," Elrohir agreed, also bowing. "It was not our intent to soil the Prince of Mirkwood."

Estel stared, wondering if he should bow or not.

Legolas just laughed, throwing one arm around Elladan's shoulders. "It is good to see you again, my friends. Things have been far too quiet since your last visit."

The twins grinned, Elrohir wrapping his arm around the prince from the other side. "Aye, I see you have not grown an inch," he said teasingly.

"One does not grow at my age," Legolas replied seriously.

"I will wager Estel will beat you out for height, Legolas!"

Estel could not hold back his smile at Elrohir's words. The banter was familiar to him...his brothers often spoke to him in the same manner, so it was no wonder they thought he and Legolas would make good friends. "Oh, but Elladan, I thought you said we should go inside immediately upon arrival?" Estel asked with false fear in his voice. "Won't the king be angry that we have not greeted him yet?"

Legolas began to answer, but at a discreet wink from Estel held his tongue.

"Estel, you have nothing to fear from King Thranduil!" Elladan replied hurriedly, shrugging out of Legolas' half-embrace to put a comforting arm around the human.

"Aye," Elrohir nodded in agreement. "He will not begrudge you these few minutes while we greet his son."

"But do not expect a welcome like this from the king."

"He is a bit more formal than Legolas."

"But you should not fear him."

"He is really a very kind elf in his own way."

"Aye, but remember what we told you."

Estel burst out laughing, sharing an amused glance with Legolas.

"Do they always act like this?" the prince asked.

"Like twin mothers with a helpless infant?" Estel grinned cheekily. "Of course."

"Ah. And I thought it was just with me."

Elrohir groaned melodramatically, suddenly shifting his grip to a headlock. "What was that, Princeling?"

"Estel?" Elladan demanded, making the same move on his human brother. "Twin mothers, are we?"

"I can see where they would get the 'helpless infant' notion, though."

"Aye. What do you think, 'Ro? To the river?"

"The river!" Elrohir pretended to begin dragging Legolas to the river, when the four were interrupted by the sharp clearing of a throat.

Legolas swiftly pulled out of Elrohir's grip, smoothing down his hair and tunic as he did so. He turned to face the elf that had just exited the palace, straightening automatically as he did so.

Breathless, Estel fought the urge to hide behind Elladan as his brother released him. The newcomer was blonde like Legolas and bore a very close resemblance to the young prince, but his eyes were dark brown. This wasn't Thranduil, was it?

"I see you have taken it upon yourself to greet our guests, Legolas," the elf said haughtily.

"I thought it only fitting," Legolas tried to explain.

"I fear what Adar will say to this...meeting," the elf went on, interrupting Legolas' defense. "I tried to warn him that you lose all sense of dignity in the presence of these Rivendell elves."

"Prince Belegdur," Elladan greeted the other elf gravely, bowing nobly.

"It is good to see you looking well," Elrohir added with a bow of his own.

Estel bowed also, but didn't know what to say to the elf.

"I am sure Adar will feel differently than you, Belegdur," Legolas replied coldly. "He knows how much I have looked forward to seeing them again."

Belegdur looked down on the sons of Elrond. "Pity," he said, almost to himself. "Too bad you could not choose friends more worthy of your position."

The young prince sighed as his brother turned and walked back into the palace. Then he looked back to the brothers, sadness in his gaze. "You will have to pardon Belegdur," he said softly. "He only says what he thinks is right."

Elladan frowned. "Is everything well in your family?"

Legolas half-shrugged. "Belegdur and Melyannawen were against opening the tournament. Aranion and Luni are afraid there might be trouble."

The human had to swallow a snort of laughter. Did the prince really just call his sister 'Luni'?

"So...that was Belegdur?" he finally asked, his mind turning back to more serious matters.

"Yes, it was," Legolas explained with a sigh, shaking his head. "I apologize for his rudeness, my friends. Come, I shall show you to your quarters."

Estel, at his brothers' promptings, quickened his pace to catch up with the prince. "This is where you live?" he asked, somewhat in awe.

"This is the palace," the prince explained, smiling. "My family lives here, as do many others. Those of my father's people who do not wish to live in the palace live in a village about a half day's journey away. The guard rotate in and out, each one staying for about eight months with his family before going back to the village."

"This place is so big!" Estel exclaimed, wishing he had more eyes to see the palace around him.

"It is our stronghold. All of my people could take refuge behind these walls if the need arose. You do need to be careful here, however," Legolas cautioned. "It is easy to get lost if you are not familiar with the palace."

Estel shivered. "I don't want to get lost if your brother is prowling around."

Legolas laughed. "Belegdur, prowling around the palace? Nay, fear not. He spends most of his time in his study or the throne room."

"Speaking of throne rooms," Elladan interjected, "should we not be greeting your father soon?"

The prince nodded. "I will take you to your rooms and give you a chance to refresh yourselves after your journey, then take you to my father."

"Good," Estel sighed, shooting a mischievous glance at his brothers. "I want to get meeting the scary elf king over as soon as possible."

Elladan growled and pretended to lunge for Estel's neck, stopping short and smiling innocently when the prince looked back at him.

"Here we are," Legolas announced, coming to a stop in front of a door. "My father has arranged for you to use a small suite, but if you need other arrangements we can work something out."

"This should be fine," Elladan assured the prince. "Would you like to come in with us?"

The prince hesitated, glancing down the hall.

"You will be on hand to show us to the throne room," Elrohir added.

Legolas grinned and shook his head. "That is what you will tell my brother, should he question my absence?"

The twins took the prince by the arm and pulled him into the room with them. "That is what we will tell Belegudr."

"Elladan," Legolas began, perching on one of the beds as the slightly older twin began digging through his pack, which the servants had brought up, "are you and Elrohir planning on competing in the tournament?"

"Of course!" the dark-haired elf replied, head buried deep in the pack. He emerged triumphant a moment later, a clean tunic clutched in his hand. "Why else would we be here?"

"To see me?" Legolas asked, adopting a pitiful expression. He made a face and ducked as Elladan tossed his dirty tunic at him. "Careful! If one strand of my hair is out of place Belegdur will report me to my father for behaving in an un-princelike manner."

Estel's forehead wrinkled in mild disgust. "Is he really that bad?"

Legolas sighed. "Belegdur and I have had many disagreements on how an elf of 'my status' should act. Personally, I have come to think that he was born full-grown and has been growing worse ever since."

Laughing, Elrohir discarded his travel-stained tunic for a clean one, pausing to help Estel with his. "And here I thought all Wood-Elves were merry."

"Belegdur was adopted," Legolas retorted cheekily. "He is really one of you stuffy Imladris elves."

"Do not blame him on us," Elrohir protested. "We _tried_ to befriend him."

"We were merely more than he could bear," Elladan agreed.

Legolas shook his head in amused exasperation. "Well, if you are ready shall we go and greet my father?"

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, then to Estel. "Aye," the older twin replied. "I believe we are ready."

"Then follow me," Legolas said, climbing off the bed and leading the trio down the hall.

_

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Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers? _


	2. The Throne Room

Chapter Two: The Throne Room

Estel resisted the urge to fidget with his tunic as he and his brothers stood outside the throne room of King Thranduil. Legolas stood at the door, waiting for the proper moment to introduce the guests. The prince seemed cool and collected, but Estel wondered what emotions were just under the surface. He had seen Legolas' reaction to Belegdur's thoughtless words, and knew that Legolas was keeping his true feelings about his brother hidden. What could it be?

Legolas turned around. "Follow me," he hissed unnecessarily, leading the trio into the throne room. "Adar," he announced in a loud, strong voice. "May I present the sons of Elrond; Elladan, Elrohir, and Estel."

Estel knelt beside his brothers, forcing his gaze to stay on the floor rather than travel up curiously. He waited until Elrohir, kneeling to his left, began to rise before standing himself.

"Greetings, King Thranduil," Elladan announced, taking one step forward. "Our father, Lord Elrond, sends you his greetings and hopes that you are well."

The king nodded, his expression neutral. His gaze passed over the three brothers, and Estel found himself comparing the king with his youngest son. Thranduil did, indeed, look like an older version of Legolas—to a point. He had the same bright golden hair and deep blue eyes, but was built slightly larger than his son. Everything about Thranduil seemed sharper and harder in comparison to Legolas, from his unreadable sapphire gaze to the air of self-possession he wore like a second cloak. Estel could not help but think that Thranduil just looked like the king he had heard so many stories about—not necessarily a tyrant, but not a jolly, easygoing elf either.

"Welcome to Greenwood, sons of Elrond. I hope you had a pleasant journey," the king commented, his glittering gaze turning back to Elladan, the spokesman for the group.

"Oh, yes," the dark-haired elf nodded. "It was Estel's first journey here, so we were very glad to have a smooth trip."

"You had no trouble with orcs in the high pass?"

"Surprisingly none, My Lord."

"Good," Thranduil sat back. "And you are Estel?" he asked, his eyes traveling back over to the human.

"A-aye," Estel stammered nervously, stepping forward, "My Lord."

Thranduil studied the human for what seemed like an eternity. Estel had to again resist the urge to fidget as he was scrutinized by that unreadable gaze. "You are the human son of Elrond?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"How have you found life in Imladris?"

Estel blinked. This wasn't exactly the sort of question he'd been expecting from the King of Mirkwood. Why would Thranduil be concerned with something like that? "It has been good, My Lord," Estel replied.

"And you are happy there?" Thranduil asked, one corner of his mouth quirking up as he noticed Estel's puzzled expression.

"Oh, yes," Estel nodded emphatically. "Very happy, My Lord."

Thranduil's gaze remained largely unreadable, but Estel thought he saw a faint glimmer of something like acceptance in the king's eye. "Good," the rather austere elf said, turning back to Elladan.

Estel took a small step back, nearly slumping forward in relief. He glanced over to catch Elrohir's encouraging glance and shot a small grin to his brother. He had survived an interview with the king.

While Elladan and Thranduil continued to share formal pleasantries and discuss the upcoming tournament, Estel took in the rest of the throne room. There was an empty throne next to Thranduil, where the now-deceased queen would have once sat. Four attendants stood beside the thrones, two on either side.

But wait. Estel sneaked another quick glance to the king's right. They were not merely attendants. On the far right of the king was Belegdur, a dark expression on his face. A brown-haired elf was between Belegdur and the king, and Estel could only assume he was the crown prince, Aranion. That meant that the two elf-maids beside the queen's throne were Legolas' sisters. Estel glanced over at them, but realized he had no way of identifying them. Short of having never met one of the princesses of Mirkwood, Thranduil had six daughters and it would be difficult to guess which two these were.

"Estel."

The human looked back up at the king, surprised to be called upon again.

"I hope you enjoy the tournament, and your visit to Greenwood," Thranduil said. "As the son of Elrond you are welcome here."

"Th-thank you, My Lord," Estel stammered, bowing his head.

The king nodded, then glanced over at his youngest son. "Legolas, I would like to speak with you a moment."

"Come on," Elrohir hissed, tugging Estel's sleeve as the human stood confused by the sudden change in conversation. "We are supposed to leave now."

Estel followed his brothers out of the throne room, looking back one last time to see Legolas standing in the middle of the room in front of his father.

He nearly collapsed with relief when they reached the hall. "Is he always that intimidating?" Estel asked his brothers.

"Of course," Elladan replied. "In fact, King Thranduil has single-handedly kept the orcs and spiders of the forest away by the sheer terror of his presence."

"Elladan!" Elrohir jabbed his twin with an elbow. "He is a bit intimidating," the slightly younger twin agreed with Estel. "But Thranduil is a good king, even if he is seems distant."

"At least he is not like Belegdur," Elladan interjected playfully. "That elf acts as though he sat on a tack and is too proper to stand up and remove it."

Again, Elrohir elbowed his brother in the side. "Quiet! So what did you think of the king?"

"He surprised me," Estel admitted. "I did not think he would speak to me, since I'm not an elf."

"King Thranduil has trade agreements with the Lake-Men," Elrohir explained. "He is used to dealing with humans, even if he does not befriend them easily."

"It is just the dwarves that he cannot stand," Elladan added. "You should have heard the stories that hobbit told us about the way Thranduil treated those dwarves."

Elrohir sighed and rolled his eyes. "Are you quite finished with your comments, Elladan?"

The slightly older twin laughed and stretched his shoulders. "I apologize. I am merely glad to be free of the burden of speaking with the king. I have feared for days that I would say the wrong thing and begin a war between Mirkwood and Imladris."

Elrohir let his head drop forward and shook it in exasperation.

"I thought the king call the forest Greenwood?" Estel asked.

"Aye, It used to be called Greenwood," Elrohir explained, "until about two thousand years ago. Most of the elves call it Mirkwood now, but there are some, like the king and a few of his children, who still call the forest Greenwood."

Estel nodded in understanding and glanced back at the ornate doors that led to the throne room. "What do you suppose he wanted to speak to Legolas about?"

"Who knows?" Elladan shrugged. "Maybe he had some details about the tournament to discuss, or wanted to know if other guests had arrived."

"Should we wait for him?"

The twins glanced at each other. "Why not?" Elladan grinned, leading the way to a nearby alcove where the three could sit comfortably on a small bench. "Although it might be a while if the king has something important to discuss."

The brothers sat quietly for a few moments, Elladan studying the intricate scrollwork decorating the arch of the alcove, Elrohir and Estel discussing the upcoming tournament.

"Quiet!" Elladan suddenly whispered, holding one hand up. "You hear that, 'Ro?"

Estel looked at his brothers, puzzled. "Hear what?"

"Raised voices," Elrohir explained, his brow furrowed in concentration. "In the throne room."

"Can you tell what they are saying?"

The twin elves were silent for a moment, concentrating. "I cannot make anything out," Elladan admitted with a hint of disappointment in his voice. "But it sounds like the king's voice."

"He must be shouting," Elrohir mused. "Those doors are quite thick."

"I would hate to be on the receiving end of Thranduil's temper," Elladan murmured.

Estel fidgeted in his seat as his brothers strained to hear. Part of him wanted to run into the throne room to see what was going on, while the rest of him was glad he was out of the king's sight.

Suddenly, the doors to the throne room opened and Estel leaned forward to see Legolas slip out and pause with his back to the closed doors. The prince lowered his head and sighed, and Estel noticed that he seemed more subdued than before, less confident and a bit withdrawn.

"Legolas?" Elladan called, stepping out of the alcove.

The prince looked up, startled. "I did not know you were out here," he admitted, walking forward to meet the brothers. "Did you forget the way to your rooms?"

"We were just waiting for you," Elrohir explained. "Is everything all right?"

"My father merely wanted my assurances that I would behave in front of the other guests."

"What do you mean?" Elladan asked, his voice slightly suspicious.

Legolas gave the dark-haired elf a puzzled look. "Well, this is the first time the tournament has been open to other realms and he is concerned that we all behave as members of the royal family."

"We heard shouting," Elrohir interjected. "What was that about?"

"Oh." Legolas' face fell. "Belegdur told my father about what happened in the courtyard."

"What!" Elladan nearly shouted. "I am going to snare that brother of yours and lock him in the dungeons!"

"Elladan," Elrohir rolled his eyes. "Was that why your father was shouting?"

"Not exactly," Legolas sighed, looking down at his feet and shifting his weight uncertainly. "Their discussion grew a bit...heated. Belegdur seems to think you are a bad influence on me and wants our father to forbid me from associating with any of you."

"What we heard was more than a 'heated discussion,' Legolas," Elrohir rebuked the prince gently.

The blonde elf's eyes saddened. "They were arguing," he admitted. "My father was shouting at Belegdur."

Legolas shook his head and looked away, his gaze growing distant. "I hate to cause such discord in my family," he whispered.

"It sounds to me like your brother is causing the discord," Elladan said.

"He only says what he thinks is right," Legolas replied, repeating his words from earlier. "I know he can be a bit argumentative at times,but that is no reason to lock him in the dungeons."

"Belegdur is a bit argumentative in the same way an orc is only a little ugly."

"Face it, Legolas, your brother is stubborn and self-absorbed, and there's nothing anyone can do to change him," Elrohir commented lightly.

Legolas half-snorted in agreement.

"What did your father say to him?"

"Well, he told Belegdur that he appreciated his concern, but ultimately it is up to me to choose my friends," Legolas said, a small grin growing on his face. "He also said that my behavior around certain sons of the Lord of Imladris is perfectly acceptable."

Elladan laughed. "I knew your father was a good king for a reason!" he exclaimed.

"So do you promise not to lock my brother in the dungeons?"

"I make no promises," Elladan replied with exaggerated malice. "Where to now, Highness?"

Legolas turned to look at the human, who had been rather quiet for the past few minutes. "Estel?"

Estel looked up, startled. His brothers and the prince were looking at him expectantly. "I'd just like to see the palace," he replied simply. He hadn't been many places other than his home, and the sheer size of Thranduil's palace astounded him.

"The grand tour it is then!" Elrohir announced, throwing an arm around his little brother's shoulders.

"From Belegdur's room all the way down to the dungeons!"

"Elladan, I am not letting you lock my brother in the dungeons."

"Not even if I win the tournament?"

Legolas sighed in mock exasperation. "No, not even if you win the tournament."

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_AN: I have to say, I loved writing that paragraph about Thranduil putting Belegdur in his place. It's the one time I regretted writing this story entirely from Estel's point of view._

_Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers?_


	3. The Qualifying Shot

_Warning: this chapter contains spoilers for _The Hobbit.

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Chapter Three: The Qualifying Shot

Estel was pulling a clean tunic over his head when he heard a knock upon the door to the guest suite. "Come in," he called as he quickly put his plate back on the breakfast tray, assuming it was a servant come to take the tray back to the kitchens.

"Good morning, Estel."

The human whirled around in surprise, nearly losing his balance as he did so. "Legolas?"

The elf-prince grinned. "Not entirely ready for visitors, I see."

Estel hoped he wasn't blushing. He was shoeless, his tunic was rumpled, and he hadn't combed his hair yet. "It is a bit early to be ready yet," he protested, straightening his tunic.

"But the day is so beautiful," Legolas commented, throwing the shutters on the windows open to let the morning sun stream in.

"It would be more beautiful if I could have slept more," Estel grumbled, crouching down on hands and knees to retrieve a shoe from under the bed.

"Why should you sleep when morning has dawned so bright and clear?"

Shoe clenched in his fist, Estel backed out from under the bed to half-glare up at the elf. "You sound just like Elrohir," he complained.

"I always knew he was the smart one," Legolas laughed, leaning casually against the windowsill. "Where are your brothers?"

"They said they had to go be evaluated by the Archery Master," Estel explained, sitting on the bed to pull his shoes on. "Someone about being placed in a class or validating their skills."

"Ah, of course," the prince nodded. "I forgot."

"Forgot what?" Estel asked. "They didn't really explain what they were going to do."

"You know this is the first time the tournament has been open to outsiders," Legolas began. "Well, the Archery Master and the other judges need to make sure that everyone who competes tomorrow is skilled enough for the tournament to be safe. They know the skill levels of the archers of Mirkwood, but they have to take today to evaluate those from other realms."

"I see," the human smiled. "They do not want someone competing who has never held a bow before."

"Exactly. In Mirkwood, the archers have to have completed their training before they can compete in the tournament. It would not be fair for archers-in-training if unskilled contestants from other realms were allowed in the tournament."

"Have you completed your training?" Estel asked, realizing that no one had mentioned if the young prince was going to compete.

Legolas shrugged. "Elves in Mirkwood generally complete their training at about their five hundredth year," he replied evasively.

"And how old are you?"

"Four hundred and eighty-three."

"Ah," Estel nodded, digging through his pack for a comb. At least that meant he would have someone to watch the tournament with. "How long will the evaluations take?"

"Could be several hours," Legolas explained. "Depends on how many other participants there are and what time your brothers got down there."

Sighing, Estel flung the comb aside, his hair at least partially tamed. "I suppose this means I have to wait here, then."

"Or I could take you through another wing of the palace," Legolas offered. "We did not have time to see the entire palace last night before dinner."

Estel furrowed his brow in puzzlement. "But I thought you would have duties as prince?"

"Not today," the prince shook his head. "Today my father told me to look after my friends from Imladris. He has assigned goodwill ambassadors to all the contestants from other realms, but he thought I would want to look after the three of you personally."

"Great!" Estel beamed, jumping to his feet. "Where do we begin?"

Legolas smiled, clearly affected by the human's enthusiasm, as the two made their way out of the chamber and down the hall. "I could show you the wing with the royal rooms," he suggested, his smile growing a touch more mischeivous. "Or, if you like, I could take you back to the throne room and we could watch my father hold court today."

Estel made a face. "No thank you. I would rather not run into your brother this early in the day."

Legolas grimaced, and Estel wondered if he might have said something wrong.

"Belegdur is not that bad," Legolas said quietly, after the pair had been walking for a few moments.

Estel stared at the prince. "But my brothers have told me stories," he said slowly. "All about how much he hates other races and how he treats elves from other realms."

"I know," Legolas replied, sadness creeping into his voice. "And likely everything Elrohir has told you is true—though Elladan has the tendency to exaggerate. But Belegdur is not a bad elf, not really. He is opinionated and stubborn and could use some sense knocked into him at times, but there are days when he is loyal and level-headed and one of my father's strongest supporters."

The human studied his friend carefully. Was Legolas hiding something? "Is there something more?"

Legolas sighed, slowly meeting Estel's eyes. The young man was shocked by the depth of pain and sadness in the prince's gaze. "My brother has...moods."

"Moods?"

"He has days like yesterday, when he finds fault with everyone around him, and he has days where the world could not be brighter to him. He has been that way for as long as I can remember, but since the battle it has gotten worse. His dark days are darker and closer together."

The prince looked away, fighting back his grief. "Those days I cannot seem to do anything right."

Estel hesitated, then put a comforting hand on the prince's arm. "I am sure it is not your fault," he said gently.

"I sometimes wonder if I were better, if I behaved in a manner more worthy of a prince if he would be happier," Legolas continued as though he had not heard Estel. "Maybe if I was not such a failure he wouldn't fall into his dark moods so easily."

"Legolas," Estel tightened his grip on the elf and shook him ever so slightly, just enough to get his attention. "It is not your fault...it cannot be."

Legolas met Estel's gaze, deep blue eyes suspiciously damp. "How can you be sure?" he whispered.

Estel sighed and pushed the elf into a nearby room where they could have some privacy, hoping it was unoccupied. It turned out to be a small study, dusty and empty except for a few books on the shelves, a pair of moth-eaten armchairs, and a tapestry on one wall. "How could it be your fault?" he asked, sitting in one of the chairs and automatically picking at the stuffing that was bursting out of one arm.

"How could it not be?" Legolas retorted, gingerly perching cross-legged in the other chair. "Everything I do displeases him...and he tells me so."

"Have you spoken with your father about this?"

"Many times," Legolas replied with a harsh-sounding laugh. "He is as much at a loss as I am. The healers can find nothing wrong with my brother except that 'perhaps' he has not quite recovered from the battle."

"What battle?" Estel asked, hearing his friend mention it a second time.

"The Battle of Five Armies," the elf explained. "It was four years ago. My father and Belegdur rode out at the head of a host of elves to investigate tidings that the dragon that plagued the lands above Long Lake was dead. The men of Laketown, whose town had been destroyed, sent for help and my people went to aid them. They ended up besieging the dwarves in Lonely Mountain—the mountain where the dwarves live now."

Estel nodded. "I think my father told me some of that story. The dwarves were trying to get their treasure back from a dragon?"

"Correct. Well," Legolas continued, "just when the three armies—men, elves, and dwarves—were about to go into battle the wizard Mithrandir, who had been helping the dwarves, appeared and told them a fourth army was coming; an army of goblins. So the three armies joined forces to battle their common foe."

"Who was the fifth army?"

"The eagles. The Lord of the Eagles was a good friend of Mithrandir's and had helped him and the dwarves before. The eagles came just in time, just as the goblins had encircled the allied armies and were about to destroy them."

Legolas stood from the chair, stretching his legs and walking over to study the tapestry. "Belegdur was a captain in my father's army," he said quietly. "In the battle the elves under his command were thrown in with a group of men from Laketown, who were led by a man named Calen. During the battle Calen decided to drive their group into the side of the goblin army and try to strike at the leader. Belegdur disagreed but had no choice but to follow Calen into battle as the man rushed off, leading his men and many of my brother's elves.

"They were slaughtered." The elf turned back to face Estel, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes grew grieved. "None of the men survived, and of the fifteen elves under my brother's command only three returned alive. One succumbed his wounds two days later, and another left for the Havens within months of the battle. My brother himself was gravely injured and nearly died."

Estel let his shoulders slump, suddenly understanding part of Belegdur's prejudice. "I guess I cannot blame him if he does not like me too much," he said in a small voice.

Legolas smiled kindly at this remark. "It is nothing against you, Estel. I believe that there might come a time when he can release some of his hatred for your kind and realize that not all humans are like Calen."

"I hope so," the human said softly.

"Belegdur lost many close friends that day," Legolas continued, his voice turning grave. "Among them was an elf who was betrothed to my sister Tirá. She has never held anything against Belegdur or the other elves and men who survived the battle but my brother cannot let it go. He has refused her forgiveness and that has made him bitter.

"I am not trying to make excuses for his behavior," the prince added. "I just hate for you to face such prejudice from my own family without knowing why."

Estel nodded quietly, looking down and studying the intricate dust patterns on the floor. "I do understand," he whispered. "I have seen prejudice from other elves in Imladris. They don't all trust my kind...it might not be fair but it is something I have had to grow used to."

He was startled when a pair of slim hands dropped onto his shoulders as the prince crouched in front of him. "Never grow used to it, Estel," Legolas said fiercely. "It is something to fight, not something to be resigned to."

The young human looked into the steady gaze of the elf, feeling a kinship he couldn't explain. Legolas smiled and sat back in his armchair, folding one leg under. "Not all of my family share Belegdur's views," he said after a moment, as though reading the fears in Estel's mind. "Of my sisters only Melyannawen holds his same hatred for humans."

"The rest of your family?" Estel asked, remembering that he had only met Legolas, Belegdur, and Thranduil.

"You know who Aranion and Belegdur are," Legolas began. "Luinlothiel, my eldest sister, is one of my father's advisor in my mother's stead until Aranion takes the throne, and Eldawen is a diplomat and is often away visiting other realms. They were the two you saw in the throne room yesterday. Tirá divides her time between the palace and the elven settlement near Dale, where Meluial and her husband live. Melyannawen is a lady of the court, and Tinlith has been studying under the healers in Lothlorien."

Estel shook his head in bewilderment. "And will they all be at the tournament tomorrow?

The prince grinned. "But of course. Where else would the royal family be but Mirkwood for the tournament?"

The young man fought down a groan. "Am I supposed to meet them all?" he asked.

Legolas laughed. "Do not worry," he assured Estel. "I will help you, and you will probably never see them except at the tournament."

The human nodded thoughtfully. He remained quiet for a few moments then finally let his curiousity show. "So you are still in training?" he asked.

Shrugging, Legolas smiled. "Why do you want to know?"

"I was just wondering if you had ever gone on any patrols...my brothers have told me stories of the dangers of the forest," he added, hoping his tone was not too hopeful.

"Oh," the prince grinned, shifting in his seat so both legs were crossed. "I have, but not as a warrior. In my training I was really only allowed to accompany some patrols to observe."

Estel's eyes sparkled with interest. "Have you ever see any battles?"

"Not really," Legolas replied, chuckling at the human's disappointment. "I did see a spider once."

"Really? What happened? Was it big?"

"Well," the elf began, his voice growing in enthusiasm at the eagerness of his audience. "I was with a patrol led by Luinlothiel's husband, Gilfaroth, when he took us down a side path to investigate rumors of spider activity. We hadn't gone far when one of the warriors nearly ran into a giant spiderweb that was stretched across the path..."

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The next morning Estel arrived at the archery grounds with his brothers for the opening ceremonies of the tournament. It was tradition for the tournament to begin with a round of qualifying shots, even though all the archers were skilled enough to compete, followed by welcoming words from the king and the Master of Archery.

"Where is Legolas?" Estel asked, craning his neck to see through the elves gathered at the line. He'd been allowed to stay with his brothers provided he didn't get in the way.

"I do not know," Elrohir replied without looking up from stringing his bow. "Is he sitting with his family?"

Elladan stood, surveying the elves who had gathered to watch the tournament. "I see Thranduil," he commented. "Crown Prince Aranion and his family. Next to them is that orc Belegdur and a blonde elf-maid who could be Princess Tirá or Princess Tinlith, I cannot tell from here. I do not see Legolas, though."

"Maybe he got lost in the crowd," Elrohir suggested.

"He is not a little elfling anymore, 'Ro," Elladan retorted.

"Ah, you are right!" Elrohir slapped his forehead as though he'd forgotten. "How many times has he reminded us of that?"

"This visit? Seventeen."

Estel just shook his head, standing on a nearby log to try to see over the heads of the elves around them. He spotted a few blond heads, but they were all among the other archers preparing for the qualifying round and he did not think any of them could be Legolas. Where could the prince be?

A pair of judges began calling elves to the firing line by groups of ten. The elves would stand on the line and fire a single shot at the target at the other end of the field, which the judges would then score to verify that each elf qualified for the tournament. Estel watched the proceedings with interest, even though the elves merely had to hit the target to qualify. He cheered with the crowd when his brothers qualified—Elrohir hitting the edge of the first ring outside the bull's-eye and Elladan striking the second.

He was disappointed that Legolas was not there. Estel frowned as he sat on the log at the edge of the field, watching Elladan and Elrohir joked with one of the Mirkwood archers who had been in their group. He wondered why the prince had failed to come when Legolas had seemed excited about the tournament the day before. But more than that, he had promised to come and watch the tournament with Estel...had he forgotten somehow?

Estel sighed and turned his attention back to the archery field as the judges began calling the final group forward to qualify. His brothers had told him that there would be eighty elves in the tournament, but he had not realized how many that would be. He listened idly to the names of the final competitors, wishing he had paid more attention to who was from which realm. It seemed that Mirkwood, logically, had more competitors than most of the other realms combined but he wondered which realm was second.

"Legolas Thranduilion of Mirkwood."

Estel's head jerked up in surprise as the judge called the final name. He jumped to his feet and tugged on Elladan's arm. "What is going on?" he asked, raising his voice to be heard above therest of the elves, who appeared as shocked as he was.

"It cannot be," Elladan was muttering. "He is to young to enter...or am I mistaken?"

"I thought he was, but..." Elrohir shook his head in astonishment. "Look at the king."

The human followed his brother's gaze. Thranduil was sitting forward, the stoicism of his expression melting away to surprise, then unmistakable pride. Estel slid between his brothers to get a better view of the line. Sure enough, there on the end was Legolas, looking suddenly small and young compared to the other archers.

"Archers ready!" one of the judges called.

"Fire!"

His face a mask of concentration, Legolas drew back his arrow and released it. Estel watched with bated breath as the prince's bolt flew down the field to the target...

...and embedded itself directly in the center of the bull's-eye.

_

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Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers? _


	4. The Tournament

_AN: I knew I shouldn't have said I'd try to have this chapter up Wednesday. Hey, it's hard to write a tournament without ESPN, and it's doubly hard to write it in the secret cave where I'm currently hiding from angry mobs. But, fear not: I'm really close to finishing chapter five, so I should (keep your fingers crossed) be able to get it up beforeI leave town for Thanksgiving._

_I did make a teensy change to the last chapter, changing the number of elves in the qualifying groups from eight to ten. I had to do it to simplify the tournament structure, so nothing else about the story has changed because of that._

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Chapter Four: The Tournament

"So how did you do it?" Elladan asked, cornering the prince as soon as the opening ceremonies were over.

"Do what?" Legolas asked innocently.

"You know what. How did you get in the tournament?"

The prince shrugged. "I told you; the tournament is open to all Mirkwood elves who have finished their training."

"But you said you had to be five hundred to complete your training," Estel interjected, puzzled.

Legolas glanced up with a grin. "I said _most_ finished their training at five hundred. I graduated a bit...early."

The twins and Estel stared at the young elf for a moment, then Elladan broke out in a laugh. "A _bit_ early?" he asked, slapping Legolas on the back. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise," the prince replied, stretching his shoulders. "I didn't even know I would be able to enter the tournament for certain until yesterday."

"When did you graduate?" Elrohir asked.

"A few weeks ago," Legolas admitted. "My instructor was a bit concerned that it was too soon, but I convinced him to at least give me the final evaluation to see if I could pass. I asked him to keep it as quiet as possible until I knew if I could compete in the tournament."

"Did your father know you finished your training?"

Legolas nodded. "He witnessed the final evaluation and agreed about not announcing it yet. He didn't know it was because I was keeping my entry in the tournament a secret," he added with a grin.

"And here I thought you couldn't keep secrets from us," Elladan sighed. "Is that why you avoided us yesterday?"

"I wasn't avoiding you!" the prince protested.

"You spent all day cooped up in that study with Estel," Elrohir stated matter-of-factly. "We had no idea where the two of you went."

"We were talking and lost track of time," Estel interjected. "It was mostly my fault, I kept asking him about the stories I've heard about Mirkwood."

"Estel, we're not angry," Elrohir explained with a smile. "We're simply amazed that Legolas could keep something like this a secret, even for a day."

"He always was fairly bursting whenever he had exciting news," Elladan added. "You should see him as an elfling. One year during Yule he wanted to lock himself up in his chamber so he wouldn't be tempted to let us know what he was giving us."

Estel grinned broadly at this description of his friend. He was about to ask if his brothers had any more entertaining stories about Legolas when the prince, evidently guessing Estel's train of thought, abruptly changed the subject.

"Look, the first group of archers are about to take the field."

The human turned to follow the elf's gaze. "Why are there only ten out there?" he asked curiously. "Aren't there eighty archers in the tournament?"

"We can't fit seventy-nine on the field safely," Legolas explained. "All the participants have been divided into eight groups."

"But how does that work? How can the judges score the tournament if everyone's kept separate?" Estel asked with a frown."

"It's only for the first four rounds. The first round today reduces the number in each group to eight, and the second round cuts the number of total archers in half. Every round after the first eliminates half the archers in the tournament, and the groups are combined for the next round so there are always eight archers per group."

"What happens when there are only eight archers left?"

"Then there's only one group competing."

Estel nodded his understanding. "But—"

"That's enough questions for now, Estel," Elrohir interrupted gently. "The tournament's about to start."

"How long does each round take?" the human asked, unaware that he was disobeying his brother.

"Between a quarter-hour and half-hour," Legolas explained lightly.

Estel groaned. So it could be up to an hour before his brothers, both in the third group, had their turn on the field? And Legolas was in the last group...it was possible the prince's group wouldn't even start until after noon.

He caught Legolas looking at him. "I am sorry, Estel," the prince said quietly. "I know the first day of the tournament can be a bit boring if you're not an archer."

Not wanting to appear rude, Estel shook his head. "Oh, I'll be fine. I always enjoy watching archers."

Elladan burst out laughing. "You always were a poor liar, Estel."

"It's all right," the prince said, noticing Estel's discomfort. "My sister Meluial's husband, Brithdil, is in the first group, but after his group is finished I would be happy to entertain you while we wait for your brothers' turn on the field," Legolas offered.

"Do you have many friends in the tournament?" Estel asked, watching as Legolas pointed out brown-haired Brithdil as the third from the left.

"Only two. Ceretín's in the fifth group and Relfían's in the seventh."

"And us," Elrohir interjected, pretending to sound hurt.

"I asked about his friends," Estel countered cheekily. "I never asked about the twin thorns in his side."

Elladan was quick to drop a headlock on Estel, much as he had the first day. "You best watch your step, Little Brother," he growled playfully, "lest you and the princeling find yourselves floating down the rive to Dale."

"Quiet!" Elrohir hissed. "The archers are beginning."

Try as he might to focus, Estel found his attention waning as he watched the ten strange archers on the field. Granted, Elladan's headlock wasn't helping his attention span any and he tried to wriggle away. His brother merely tightened his grip, and Estel could just see the grin spreading across the older twin's face.

"Elladan, please let him go," Legolas asked calmly as the judges walked onto the field to score the archers. "Your father would be most displeased if you accidentally strangled his youngest son."

Estel pulled out of Elladan's grip as the elf finally let go, glowering in mock anger. "I will have my revenge on you," he promised.

"You've been saying that for nearly six years now," Elrohir commented lazily. "You'll never be able to get back at us."

"Is that so?" Legolas asked, raising one eyebrow and grinning wickedly. "Come, Estel, I believe I know something we can discuss while waiting for your brothers' turn."

Grinning, Estel followed Legolas back to the log set a distance away from the field. Estel was glad for the prince's presence, for Legolas was able to point out interesting things about the archers' performance and show Estel the differences between the styles of archery from different realms.

"What about Rivendell?" Estel asked when Legolas had finished his explanation.

"There are only three archers from Rivendell here other than your brothers," the prince replied. "I don't think they've been on the field yet."

Estel sighed, looking back at the field. "Look, it's time," he pointed, seeing the other archers filing off. He jumped up, leaving the prince to trail after him as he ran to the edge of the field. His brothers had joined the other archers on the field and were standing side by side, wearing identical expressions of concentration.

"I hope they do well," Estel whispered. "They've been practicing for months, and they're the best archers I've ever seen."

"They have a lot of competition," Legolas responded. "But I'm sure they'll be fine."

Estel bit his knuckle as his brothers drew their bows, readying for the judges to call for the first shot. "Come on, El," he muttered, not sure which one he was cheering on.

The judges called for the first shot, and Estel jumped involuntarily as ten arrows struck their targets nearly simultaneously. "How did they do?" he whispered, looking down the field but not sure of what he saw.

"The round isn't finished yet, but I believe they've done well."

The human tried to nod, tried to appear relaxed but was far too tense. He noticed, thanks to Legolas' earlier commentary on the archers in group two, that Elladan seemed a bit tense while Elrohir was slightly more relaxed. He curled his hands into fists, nails biting into his palms as his brothers fired again. This time he managed not to jump, and he actually stood still for the rest of the round—a feat which his brothers would have considered miraculous.

"How did they do?" he asked again once the round was over.

"The judges will announce it," Legolas promised. Sure enough, after the judges had evaluated the targets one approached the center of the field to announce the scores.

Estel nearly jumped for joy when he heard that Elladan had scored an eighteen out of twenty—and he literally jumped when the judge announced that Elrohir had gotten a perfect score.

"Good shooting, 'Ro," Elladan complimented his brother as they joined Estel and Legolas on the sidelines.

The human didn't say anything—all thoughts of congratulations dying on his lips as he flung his arms around his brothers, beaming with pride.

"Estel, look," Legolas interrupted the brothers' embrace and pointed back out to the field. Two of the archers had remained on it, holding their bows at the ready. "The lowest scores for the round were one sixteen and two seventeens, and because only two can be disqualified the two archers who scored seventeen have to break their tie to see which one will move on to the next round."

"How do they do that?" Estel asked.

"The judges will call for them to fire, and they will continue shooting at the targets until one scores lower than the other."

Estel frowned at this. "What about the extra points?" he asked.

"Only the points from the round are counted," Elrohir explained. "The archer who moves on will only have seventeen points going into the next round."

Elladan sighed and sat down on the ground, stretching his legs out before him. "Only five more hours until Legolas' turn!"

Elrohir rolled his eyes, dropping down next to his twin. "I think you mean five rounds."

"But it will seem like five hours," Elladan replied with a fake whine.

Legolas just laughed at the twins, perching on the old log a few feet away. "Aye, and now you have to wait—though, Elladan, I know you're not familiar with that term."

"Wait, wait," Elladan grumbled. "I only have so much patience, you know."

"I'd lend you mine if you weren't always treading on it," Elrohir interjected cheerfully.

Estel grinned, settling himself in for a wait with his brothers and his new best friend.

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Contrary to Elladan's prediction, it was less than three hours before Legolas had his turn on the field. Estel had found the wait fairly enjoyable, between the camaraderie between his brothers and the prince and hearing Legolas talk about some of the archers they saw. He'd cheered for Ceretín and Relfían with Legolas—who was slightly disappointed when Relfían was disqualified after the first round.

But now the final group was on the field. It was Legolas' turn.

Estel thought he was even more nervous watching Legolas than he had been watching his brothers. Then again, his brothers were undoubtedly more nervous than Legolas had been so maybe they were wearing off on him or something.

"I can't watch, 'Dan," Elrohir muttered. "What if he misses?"

"He won't miss," Elladan replied reassuringly. "We've known him nearly his whole life—since when does he miss a target?"

"But he's so much younger than the other archers."

"Don't worry. I have a feeling he's going to surprise everyone at this tournament."

"You and your feelings," Elrohir snorted, but Estel could tell that the younger twin felt better for his brother's words.

The judges called for the first shots. Estel bit his lip, ignoring the pain as he chewed on it. Elladan's hand on his shoulder seemed to grow heavier as the elf's fingers dug into his skin. He stood frozen as though time itself had stopped flowing, all focus on the slender blonde on the opposite side of the field.

"Come on, Legolas," he heard Elrohir whisper. "You can do this."

"How did he do?" Estel whispered, not daring to look down the field.

"I don't know," Elladan murmured. "'Ro?"

"You look, 'Dan," Elrohir replied.

The judges finished calling the scores, and Estel sagged in relief.

Legolas had scored a nineteen.

Elladan grabbed the prince with a grin, pulling him off the field. "I knew you could do it," he said. "You outscored me!"

"Yes, very well done, Legolas," Elrohir added.

"I still missed one shot," Legolas replied, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"And I missed two," Elladan countered. "There is still plenty of time for you to best the other archers and prove that this young upstart of the royal family is the greatest archer in Mirkwood!"

Legolas had to laugh at his friend's grandiose tone. "All I want to do is make my father proud."

"I think you've accomplished that already," Elrohir commented. "The king looked fit to burst when he heard your score."

"Yes, even Belegdurmust becontented by your performance."

At his brother's name, Legolas' face fell. "Probably not. He probably thinks I'm doing poorly."

"Well, what does he know?" Elladan blustered, glancing over his shoulder to shoot a glare at the elf in question. "How long has it been since he picked up a bow? Three centuries? Let archers judge archery, and leave the bitter ruminations to old women and Prince Belegdur."

"'Ruminations'?" Estel laughed. "Elladan, what have you been reading?"

"Stop that," Elrohir protested, stepping in between his brothers as Elladan again lunged playfully at Estel. "You'll distract the archers," he added, pointing at the eight elves lining up on the field.

"The second round's beginning already?" Estel asked in surprise. "But the first just ended."

"It's been four and a half hours since these archers were up, Estel," Elrohir reminded his little brother. "There's no need to break in between rounds today."

"There should be food out if you're hungry," Legolas offered, leaning back against one of the trees that lined the field.

"Want us to bring you something?" Elladan asked, noticing that the prince didn't seem inclined to move.

"Not hungry," the blonde elf made a face. "Too nervous."

"We'll bring some food over anyway," Elrohir retorted with a laugh. "Besides, Estel may be too weak to make it all the way to the tables and back."

Estel rolled his eyes at his brothers' retreating forms. "They seem to think that if they leave us alone enough we'll become friends."

"Aye," Legolas replied with a grin. "How are you enjoying the tournament so far?" he asked.

"It's been...interesting," Estel responded.

"It will move a little faster tomorrow," the prince said with a laugh, glancing back at the field. "As more elves are disqualified you can really see who the finest archers are."

"Is Brithdil still in the tournament?"

"Second from the left, this time," Legolas pointed.

Estel nodded, watching the archers in silence for a moment. "Is it hard?" he asked suddenly.

Legolas glanced down at Estel in surprise. "Is what hard?"

"Archery. My brothers have taught me some but I'm not very good yet. Is it hard?"

"Not if you've spent the last few centuries learning," Legolas replied, laughing at the face his human friend made. "I can teach you some things that your brothers might not know, maybe help you straighten your aim a bit."

Estel smiled brightly. "That would be great! Maybe after the tournament?"

"We'll see," Legolas said, looking back out at the field. "I think Brithdil's got another twenty."

"That's two in a row...do you think he'll win?"

The prince frowned thoughtfully and shook his head. "Brithdil's a fine archer, but when he's nervous he loses a bit of control. Today will likely be his best day in the entire tournament."

Estel nodded, turning his attention to the grass at his feet. If he were younger he would have no qualms about picking a few stems and weaving a mat, like he'd done many times before, but he didn't want the prince thinking him too young.

Elladan and Elrohir returned in a few moments with some bread, cheese, and fruit such as the cooks had set out. Estel barely paid attention to the archers on the field as his stomach began to turn somersaults—his brothers were up next.

"I don't know how long I can stand this," Estel murmured to Legolas as the twins took their positions on the field. "It's nerve-wracking."

The prince chuckled. "Wait until you see the second half tomorrow."

Estel groaned in mock agony. "I don't think I can take it."

The two stood in silence as the archers fired, Estel trying to train his eyes on Elladan and Elrohir at the same time.

"They've done well," Legolas whispered, for which Estel was grateful as he couldn't quite make out the targets at the other end of the field.

The scores were called. Both twins had scored nineteen points, which gave Elrohir a thirty-nine and Elladan a thirty-seven.

"Elladan has a low score?" Estel asked as his brother stayed behind on the field with another elf.

"It's not uncommon in the early rounds," Legolas said reassuringly. "Your brother will do fine."

Sure enough, Elladan passed to the next round when the other archer fired a bad shot. Estel nearly collapsed in relief, glad that both his brothers had made it.

"Estel!" Elladan shouted, grabbing his human brother up in a hug and spinning him around.

Elrohir rolled his eyes and grinned. "I think our brother is a bit wound up."

"Just nervous energy, 'Ro," Elladan replied. "Legolas!"

"Oh, no," the prince backed away, hands held out in front of him. Estel watched, laughing, as his brother chased Legolas around a few of the trees before finally catching him up in an embrace, spinning him around as he had Estel.

Estel leaned back with a sigh of contentment, grinning as he heard some of the other archers laughing at Elladan's antics.

The Shadow might have fallen on Mirkwood...but there was still some brightness in the wood.

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

A few hours later Estel again found himself waiting nervously with his brothers as Legolas took his place on the field. The sun was setting, casting odd shadows from the trees on the field and making the whole place, well, just a bit creepy. "Will they finish before night?" he asked his brothers in a whisper.

"Fear not, Estel," Elrohir said kindly. "We are in the company of more two hundred warriors, most of them very skilled archers. You're almost as safe here as you would be back home."

Funny, Estel thought, that wasn't very reassuring.

"I don't think he's nervous at all," Elladan commented.

"He certainly doesn't look it," Elrohir concurred.

"Here we go again," Estel muttered as the archers fired, his stomach twisting as though a snake had made a home in his belly. Now he was glad the elves hadn't provided a full meal at noon—it likely would have been all over the grass by now.

So intent was he on watching Legolas that he didn't hear the scores announced, and was caught completely off-guard when Elladan suddenly whooped as though in victory.

"What happened?"

"Legolas scored a perfect twenty," Elrohir announced proudly.

"His score is now the same as Elrohir's," Elladan added.

"Which is the second-highest score so far."

"You mean he got four bull's-eyes?" Estel asked in astonishment.

"That's right, Little Brother," Elladan laughed.

"If he keeps this up," Elrohir commented, "he might just win the tournament after all!"

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

The second day of the tournament dawned bright and clear as Estel, his brothers, and Legolas again came down to the archery field.

"Last day of the tournament," Legolas announced, carefully running his fingers over his bow in inspection.

"Did your friend make it to this round?" Estel asked, realizing he hadn't paid too close attention yesterday.

Legolas shook his head. "Ceretín was disqualified. He and Relfían are in the stands today, though. They want to see how far I get, they said."

Elladan snorted. "Quite the vote of confidence, there."

The prince laughed merrily. "Elladan, a new graduate has never won the tournament. The winner is always an elf of more skill _and_ experience."

"Like him?" Elrohir asked, pointing to a fair-haired archer. "Finen of Lothlorien...I think my grandfather's mentioned him."

Legolas looked up and nodded. "Or Tarathdur. He's one of my father's warriors, and so far he has a perfect score."

The first part of the third round passed much like the day before. Estel watched as Legolas' brother-in-law scored an eighteen—losing his concentration as the sense of competition increased, just as Legolas predicted.

He was surprised, however, when Elladan was disqualified. His brother had scored another nineteen, bringing his score to fifty-six, but it wasn't enough to pass him to the next round.

Estel wrapped his arms around the older twin as soon as the dark-haired elf stepped off the field. "I'm proud of you," he whispered. "You made it so far."

Elladan hugged Estel close with his free arm. "Thank you, Estel. At least now I can rest," the elf added with a laugh. "The watching and waiting for my turn nearly caused my heart to stop!"

"Ah, but how much more trying will it be to watch your twin and your dear friend?" Elrohir asked smugly, sprawling on his back on the lawn. "I believe you will find being a spectator nearly as challenging as being in the tournament."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes...for now you are forced to watch without being able to intervene and _do_ anything."

Elladan groaned theatrically, slouching down next to his twin. "Ai, Estel, how will we survive?"

"They're almost done," Legolas said quietly.

The three sons of Elrond looked up, and Estel could see the tension in the young elf's shoulders.

"Finen has fifty-nine, and Tarathdur sixty. He leads the round...there are three other archers with the same score as Finen."

"Looks like you're up," Elladan commented, rising to his feet to clasp his friend's shoulder.

"I'm afraid," the prince whispered. "What if I fail?"

"Do your best, Legolas," Elladan said encouragingly. "You will never fail any of us if you go out there and just do your best."

"Do you think the stress is overwhelming him?" Elrohir asked with some concern.

"He's afraid he's going to fail his father and the rest of his family," Elladan shrugged. "I would feel the same if we were in Imladris...at least we could have left if we lost spectacularly."

"Archers ready!" the judge's clear call cut through the morning air, bringing attentions back to the field.

"Fire!"

Estel found himself chewing on his knuckles as the eight archers again drew and fired four times in quick succession.

"He did it," Elrohir sighed, grinning foolishly.

"He scored another twenty?"

"Aye," Elladan stepped forward to greet the prince as he jogged off the field. "Legolas!"

The prince laughed. "Not this time," he said, sidestepping Elladan's embrace.

"You're one of the leaders now, Legolas," Elrohir exclaimed. "The only elf with a better score is Tarathdur."

"Four elves tied for second place and one of them is our Legolas," Elladan announced proudly, dropping an arm around Legolas' shoulders in a half-hug.

"Round four," Elrohir sighed. "We're halfway done."

Legolas sank down to sit next to Estel. He looked worn out.

"Are you all right?" the human asked in concern.

"I did not sleep well last night," Legolas admitted.

"I know how you feel," Elrohir nodded. "The tournament...I swear I dreamed I lost to Lord Glorfindel's horse three times last night!"

The prince laughed. "I can understand why we only hold this tournament every twelve years. It will take me at least eleven to recover from this one!"

"Aye, I hope the stress does not affect my aim," Elrohir said cheerfully, waving a playful goodbye to the other three as he turned to join the elves on the field.

"It is going faster today," Estel said quietly.

"The number of elves is greatly reduced," Legolas nodded. "We're down to sixteen now. Starting next round we do not have to divide the archers into separate groups any longer."

Estel kept his eyes on his brother as the elves fired, wondering with some concern if Elrohir was losing some focus. After a fairly steady record of two nineteens and a twenty, Elrohir only managed eighteen points but it was still enough to advance him to the next round. Brithdil, on the other hand, had only manage sixteen and was disqualified.

Now the prince was up again. Finen and Tarathdur, the elves they had been talking about earlier, were in the same group as Legolas. Estel wondered if his friend was intimidated—after all, Tarathdur had yet to make a mistake in the tournament.

The judges gave the signal for the archers to fire, and eight bows moved with enviable fluidity as the command was obeyed.

When the round was over, a strange stillness seemed to fall over the field as the judges scored the archers, though the elves in the stands and behind the firing line were all whispering about something.

"El..." Elladan said softly, his voice amazed.

"I know," Elrohir replied, standing still in shock as the judges announced the scores for the round.

"What? What happened?" Estel asked, straining to hear the archery master's voice over the murmur of the elves around him.

"Legolas just scored another perfect round," Elladan explained.

"He's a very good archer, isn't he?" Estel asked, grinning in excitement at his friend's skill.

"That's not all. Tarathdur got eighteen and Finen nineteen. Their scores are now tied at seventy-eight, same as the other high scores from Elrohir's group."

"So?"

"Legolas' score is seventy-nine."

Estel looked up, his eyes widening in shock. "Legolas is in first place?"

"Aye," Elrohir nodded, excitement creeping into his voice. "If he can keep his lead, he'll win the tournament."

_

* * *

Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers? _

_Here's how bizarre my mind is: I couldn't even write the chapter until I sat down and figured out the scores for all seventy-nine archers. Seriously, I'll email you the chart I made in MS Word if you don't believe me._


	5. Victory and Defeat

_AN: I know in some review responses I said Belegdur wouldn't have much of anything else to do with this story, but...well...I was wrong. He crept back into the story when I wasn't looking to provide angst and emotional conflict. Don't worry, I've had my revenge in a new story...tee-hee._

_What do you know? I'm actually on time for once!_

* * *

Chapter Five: Victory and Defeat

"I told you he'd surprise us today," Elladan said with a smirk in his twin's direction. "It's only the fourth round and he's already taken the lead...how could you have doubted my prediction, Elrohir?"

Elrohir snorted, stretching up on his toes in an attempt to see the prince through the crowd of archers that had suddenly appeared to congratulate him. "You're right, I'm sorry," he said in a tone that was anything but contrite. "I will never doubt your 'feelings' again, Elladan."

"Should we rescue him?" the older twin asked after a moment.

Estel bit back a grin. Legolas was currently facing a group of about six archers who were all talking simultaneously, and he had a polite-yet-bewildered expression on his face as he tried to focus on all six.

"Aye," Elrohir said with a chuckle. "Estel, stay here. If we don't return in ten minutes call for help."

The human laughed quietly as his brothers shouldered their way into the midst of the archers and threw their arms across Legolas' shoulders, one on each side of him. Estel watched as the twins smoothly took over and monopolized the conversation, going back and forth as they often did unconsciously, this time with the added bonus of confusing the other archers. Elladan and Elrohir gradually guided Legolas away from the other elves, pushing through the crowd until they reached the edge where Estel was waiting.

"Now, sit right here," Elrohir ordered, pushing the prince down to sit in between Estel and the edge of the log.

Legolas looked up at the twins who were standing in front of him. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"We're your bodyguards," Elladan explained stoically.

"That's right," Elrohir added. "The archery champion of Mirkwood needs his space while he waits for the next round to commence."

The prince's eyes widened in disbelief; then he dropped his head, his shoulders shaking with laughter. "My bodyguards?" he asked as soon as he regained his composure. "And what are you guarding me from?"

"The crushing throng," Elrohir replied, deadpan. "We wouldn't want to see you crushed..."

"...or thronged..." Elladan interjected.

"...before you have a chance to finish the tournament."

Legolas looked up at Elladan curiously. "'Thronged'? What _have_ you been reading?"

Elladan raised one eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you mocking me?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Legolas replied innocently.

Estel chuckled and shook his head. "How long until the next round he asked?"

Legolas suddenly grew solemn. "About ten minutes."

"Ai," Elrohir sat heavily on the ground. "I think I'll be glad when this tournament's over."

The prince nodded in agreement. "I don't think I've eaten anything for two days," he added.

"And you can't exactly afford to lose any weight," Elladan jibed, poking Legolas in the side.

With a snort, the prince swatted the older twin's hand away. "I don't remember the tournament being this nerve-wracking last time," he commented.

"You weren't participating," Elrohir explained. "That always makes it worse."

"Or watching your brother or one of your best friends," Elladan interjected.

"Don't forget waiting to see if you pass to the next round."

"And having to tie-break to see if you'll be eliminated."

Legolas groaned and dropped his head to his hands. "Can we talk about something else?" he asked.

Elrohir smiled at the nervous young elf. "I hear you're going to give Estel archery lessons tomorrow."

The prince shrugged. "Just some pointers. See if I can't undo the damage your instructors have undoubtedly done."

"Hey!" Elladan protested. "What's wrong with our instructors?"

"They're not wood-elves," Legolas replied simply.

Elladan's mouth opened to reply, but before he could say anything Elrohir had jumped up and clamped a hand over his brother's mouth. "Let's not get into that now," he said calmly, smiling at the mock-fury in his twin's eye. "Play nice with the prince, 'Dan."

The older twin jerked away with a grimace. "Your hand tastes funny."

"You shouldn't stick your tongue out next time," the younger twin said calmly.

"I wouldn't have if I had known you were going to pull a stunt like that."

"I wouldn't have to pull a stunt like that if you learned to keep your mouth shut."

"I know how to keep my mouth shut."

"Prove it."

Elladan glared at Elrohir, firmly clamping his lips together as though to prove his point.

Estel couldn't help it. He burst out laughing.

Legolas shook his head, grinning. "How old are they?" he whispered, leaning over to Estel.

"I'm not sure anymore," Estel whispered back.

"Should we stop them?"

"I don't know if we can."

The twins forgot whatever their miniature feud was about when the judges announced the next round. "Good luck," Elladan called, patting his brother and the prince on the back as they made their way over to the field.

"I don't think they need it," Estel commented.

Elladan grunted. "Just in case," he murmured.

The now-familiar butterflies were making their appearance in Estel's stomach, but he fought to ignore them. He focused on the field, studying the eight archers who stood side by side. Elladan had pointed out Finen of Lorien in the previous round; a tall elf with light blonde, almost white, hair.

"Archers ready!"

He had grown so familiar with the rhythm of the rounds that he unconsciously tensed with the archers as they prepared to fire.

"Fire!"

As he watched the prince Estel was forced to remind himself that Legolas was still technically a novice, barely out of his training, and not a seasoned warrior. Yet it seemed the young prince of Mirkwood was more skilled than the other archers despite his inexperience.

The scores were called out. Legolas had scored another perfect twenty points and was still in the lead, but Elrohir had only manage eighteen and had been disqualified.

Estel was a little disappointed that his brother hadn't made it all the way to the end of the tournament, but he was proud of him anyway. Elrohir had made it farther in the tournament than any other competitors from Imladris, and Estel knew his father would be very pleased with both his sons' achievements in the tournament.

"Now, this is interesting," Elrohir commented as the three brothers gathered together to watch the rest of the tournament. "Tarathdur's been eliminated."

Elladan and Estel looked over to where the warrior was talking to Legolas on the edge of the field. "So?" Estel asked.

"That means Legolas is the last archer of Mirkwood in the tournament."

"Where are the rest of the archers from?"

"Lorien. They seem to have many fine archers there."

Estel stared at the field, where the four remaining archers were returning after a short break. "Do you know the other archers?" he asked his brothers, knowing they had visited Lothlorien many times in the past.

"Not really," Elladan shrugged. "I've only heard of Finen and never met the other two."

"We didn't spend much time with the archers when we visited," Elrohir explained.

The archers on the field took their positions, holding their bows at ready. Estel sighed, beginning to believe that his stomach would forever be tied in knots.

The air had changed, beyond the heightening of the sense of competition among the crowd and the archers. Estel realized that this was because all of Mirkwood was now united behind one archer: Legolas.

The judges called for the archers to fire, and though he almost could have predicted how this round would end Estel still felt his heart jump into his throat. He had gotten over his nerves enough to at least look at the targets at the end of a round, even if he couldn't quite make them out.

The round went as could pretty much be expected by this point. Legolas and Finen both scored twenty points, meaning that Legolas was still ahead by one. And with only one round left, that margin was more important than ever.

"He might actually do it," Elrohir muttered, half in awe and half in disbelief. "Legolas could actually win the tournament."

"It's never been done before," Elladan commented. "Didn't he say that? Didn't he say an archer fresh out of training has never won the tournament?"

"We've seen more impossible things come to pass."

Estel bit his lip, wincing at the coppery taste of blood. He idly wondered how long ago he'd actually chewed his lip raw that he was just now noticing it. "How long until the last round?" he asked, not even realizing his voice had gone up in pitch because of his nerves.

"Ten minutes or so," Elladan explained. "It seemed short enough before, but now..."

"Ten minutes seems like a lifetime," Elrohir agreed.

The human shook his head, frowning as he massaged his stomach. He couldn't decide which were actually nerves and which were hunger pains because he hadn't eaten all day. "Where's Legolas?"

"He's coming," Elrohir nodded to the blonde elf shrugging his way through the other archers. "Though by the time he gets here it'll be time for him to go back on the field."

Elladan laughed. "Legolas!" he half-shouted as the prince finally left the crowd. "Congratulations!"

"Don't be too sure," Legolas said with a serious expression. "Things could change in the last round."

"You haven't missed a shot since round one," Elladan disagreed. "Finen's missed two, I'd say it's more likely he'll miss."

Legolas shrugged. "I don't want to count on it."

"Are you nervous?" Estel asked, not knowing what else to say.

The prince glanced at him. "Nervous? No. I'm terrified."

"It's almost over," Elrohir said reassuringly. "Just think, one more round and we'll know who the champion is, one way or another."

"You'll do fine," Elladan added, seeing that Legolas still looked a little shaky. "You're an excellent archer, Legolas. Trust in your abilities."

The judges called the final two archers to the field. "It's time," Legolas whispered.

With the twins and Estel offering encouraging words, the prince took to the field for the final round of the competition.

It seemed all of Mirkwood was holding its breath as the final shots of the tournament were fired. Legolas and Finen stood side-by-side, the best that Mirkwood and Lorien had to offer now pitted against each other in direct competition. Estel held his breath, again unconsciously biting his lip.

They fired. Four shots straight into the targets.

The judges at the end of the field tallied the scores and called them back.

Finen had scored twenty.

Legolas, however, had scored nineteen.

They were tied.

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"Now what happens?" Estel asked as the buzz from the crowd died down.

"They have to break the tie," Elladan said. "It's just like when two archers get a low score, except that more is at stake here."

"Yeah, this is for the championship," Elrohir nodded.

"They're starting," Elladan pointed. Legolas and Finen had taken a step apart and were aiming for clean targets, each readying an arrow. "They'll shoot one at a time until one misses."

Two arrows flew down the field and landed in the center of their respective targets.

"This could be a while," Elrohir commented with a sigh.

And it was. For nearly an hour the two archers drew and fired, sending their arrows straight home. Estel could tell that they were tired, even exhausted but still the tournament continued. It was only mid-afternoon, and Estel wondered if they would continue the tournament straight through to evening or give the archers a chance to rest.

Even the judges seemed to be barely functioning. They checked each arrow, only shouting whether or not it was good.

The suspense was nearly deadly.

And still the archers drew and fired.

Then, it happened. One of the judges shouted a stop, his voice rising in excitement.

Estel strained to see down the field, but the targets were too far away for him to see. There was a flurry of judges, three or four of them checking the first one's evaluation of one of the last shots.

One of the judges broke off from the group and jogged back to the center of the fields. "My good friends," he called, raising both his arms. "I am pleased to announce that we _finally_ have a winner."

The judge turned to regard the two archers, both standing in nervous anticipation. "The champion of the tournament is..."

Estel crossed his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited for the announcement.

"Legolas Thranduilion of Mirkwood!"

The crowd exploded in applause. Estel opened his eyes quickly enough to see Legolas' knees buckle in shock and Finen grab his arm to steady him, apparently offering congratulations at the same time. The judge stepped onto the field and took a dazed prince by the arm and led him up to the dais.

"King Thranduil," the judge said clearly, a smile creeping into his voice. "May I present Legolas Thranduilion, champion of Mirkwood."

The elf-king smiled broadly. "Well done, Legolas," he announced, formally accepting the tournament champion. "Well done indeed."

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"I still can't believe he won!" Elrohir exclaimed for possibly the one hundredth time as the brothers dressed for dinner. They'd separated from Legolas nearly an hour before as the prince had some duties to see to before the night's banquet.

"I think you'd better start believing it," Elladan teased, setting out the two sets of formal robes he'd brought. "Or else we'll convince you that you're not dreaming."

Estel just grinned, tugging on the hem of his sleeve. He didn't remember these robes being this short last time. Maybe it wasn't too noticeable.

There was a light knock on the door, and Legolas stuck his head in. "May I enter?" he asked.

"Of course!" Elrohir gestured broadly. "Welcome, honored guest. You may sit anywhere you like."

Legolas laughed, choosing a spot on one of the beds. "I need to ask something of the three of you," he said, his voice turning serious.

Elladan glanced up, his face creasing with worry. "What is it?"

"There's nothing wrong," the prince said hastily. "It's just...by tradition the winner of the tournament and his family are seated at the king's table for the banquet. I wanted to ask if, since all of my family will already be there, the three of you would like to join us?"

Estel's eyes widened. Were they actually being asked to sit at the high table with the king?

"We'd love to," Elladan replied, glancing at his brothers for conformation.

Legolas smiled broadly. "Great!" he exclaimed.

"Shouldn't you ask your father about this first?" Elrohir asked, pulling out his comb and running it through his hair.

"I already did," the prince said with a grin. "I figured you'd say yes, but he told me to ask anyway."

"Hmm," Elladan grunted. "Legolas, should I wear the maroon or the navy?" he asked, holding up the two sets of robes.

The prince shot the older twin a curious look. "You brought two sets?"

"I never know which one to wear," the dark-haired elf responded with a shrug. "What do you think?"

Legolas frowned in thought. "Is one more comfortable than the other?"

Elladan looked down, a slightly puzzled look on his face. "I guess the maroon one is."

"Then wear the navy."

Estel grinned as Elladan's face took on an even more confused expression. "What?"

"You'll want to save the more comfortable ones for the award ceremony."

"You mean that's not tonight?" Elrohir asked, grabbing Estel by the shoulder and forcing him to sit on the bed. Estel winced as his brother started to comb through the tangles in his hair.

"There are still a few smaller competitions," Legolas explained. "None as big as the archery tournament itself, but rather than holding different award ceremonies we just have one after all the competitions are finished. It's three days from now," he added in reply to the question just forming on Elrohir's lips. "You will still be here, won't you?" he asked, his voice concerned.

"Of course," Elladan snorted as he slipped into his robes. "You don't think we'd leave you here alone for the award ceremony, do you?"

Legolas let out a laugh. "Elladan, there are thirteen members of my family here. That hardly constitutes being alone."

Elladan grimaced. "You know what I mean."

"What my brother is trying to say," Elrohir interjected smoothly with a wink at Estel. "Is that he's proud of you and wouldn't miss seeing you honored as archery champion for all the treasures in your father's palace."

To Estel's surprise, Legolas blushed at the praise and lowered his gaze to the floor. "Thank you," he whispered.

Elladan cleared his throat. "Well, shall we go then?" he asked, pausing in front of the mirror to double-check his appearance.

"You have to go on without me," Legolas replied. "I have to 'make an entrance'," he added, with a wry face.

The twins chuckled. "See you at the banquet, then," Elrohir called, steering Estel through the door.

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The banquet was definitely worse than the tournament, Estel decided after a few moments. Granted, it was a great honor to be seated at the king's table, but that meant that all fourteen members of the royal family—eleven if one didn't count spouses not born into the household—were also there. The table was shaped like a wide 'U', with eleven seats on the long side and three on each of the shorter sides. Estel was right on a corner, with Elrohir on his left and Elladan on the end, and Brithdil, who he recognized from the tournament, around the corner on his right.

Thranduil was seated at the center of the table on the long side. Crown Prince Aranion was on his right, but the seat on his left was empty. Estel glanced curiously around the table, wondering if the empty seat was for Legolas or if someone else was missing.

He shuddered when he caught Belegdur's glare from across the table, where the elf was sitting one seat away from the corner. Couldn't the prince at least be civil, he wondered.

The murmur of the other elves in the banquet hall was suddenly silenced as the Archery Master, who Estel recognized as the head judge from the tournament, suddenly stepped into the room.

"My Lords and Ladies," he announced. "May I present Legolas Thranduilion, champion of Mirkwood."

The Archery Master stepped aside with a bow, and Legolas entered to thunderous applause. He smiled a bit shyly and bowed to the gathered elves before making his way up to the seat of honor at his father's left.

With the prince's entrance the banquet could officially begin, and servants entered the room carrying trays piled high with food.

Estel filled his plate as the servants brought the trays around, digging in with relish as his nervous stomach had finally stilled so he could eat. There was a happy hum of conversation all around him, and though he could not quite keep up with what he could hear he was quite contented just to listen and watch his brothers and Legolas.

That is, until he heard a raised voice.

He frowned, looking down the table to see the source, then swallowed in apprehension. It was Prince Belegdur.

"Not tonight," he heard Elrohir groan.

"Look," Belegdur snapped at his older brother. "I know he won the tournament, and that's all well and good. All I'm saying is that his performance was less than ideal. He missed those two shots, and if he hadn't the tournament would have ended much sooner. Then again, I suppose it's the sort of performance we've come to expect from him."

Estel frowned, glancing over at Legolas who seemed to be trying with all his might to ignore his brothers' conversation, attention instead focused on the she-elf beside him.

"What are you saying?" Aranion demanded.

"I'm just saying that if Legolas had been a better archer his victory would be something to be proud of, not something due to a fluke shot by the other archer," Belegdur shouted.

The hall had suddenly grown strangely quiet, Estel noticed. Legolas looked stricken, his face pale and drawn.

"It is something to be proud of!" Aranion replied, pounding his fist on the table to emphasize his point. The she-elf beside him—who Estel figured was his wife—put a hand on his arm as though to caution him. "He's your brother, Belegdur! Can't you show him a bit of courtesy?"

"I know he's my brother," Belegdur answered coldly, not seeming to notice that their conversation had become a focus of attention for the entire hall. "As to courtesy, why don't you ask him where his courtesy was when he ignored the rest of the archers in the tournament for the sake of his friends from Imladris?" he asked haughtily, shooting a glare at the twins and Estel. "Why don't you ask where his respect for his position was when he decided it was better to act like a savage than one of the king's family? Why don't you ask him why he chose to disgrace this family rather than honor it?"

Estel started. What was Belegdur talking about?

"What!" Elladan demanded, rising to his feet. Elrohir quickly jumped up to put a restraining hand on his brother, though the younger twin's face was livid.

"How dare you!" Belegdur seethed, jumping to stand. "You stay out of this, this is our business."

"Then surely this is something to be discussed in privacy, isn't it Belegdur?" one of the elves at the table asked.

"That's none of your concern, Gilfaroth," Belegdur snapped.

"Belegdur," Thranduil said sharply, leveling an icy gaze at his third-born child. "This is neither the time nor the place."

Belegdur seethed, though he didn't quite dare to glare at his father. "You always side with him! Can't you see how his actions are bringing shame on this family?"

"You're the one who's shaming the family," Elladan retorted, ignoring Elrohir's caution.

"Would it have really been so hard not to miss those two shots?" Belegdur asked, suddenly turning to his younger brother. "Did you even try, or did you just count on luck or the other archer's poor skills to give you the victory?"

The table erupted into chaos. Elladan nearly launched himself across the table—and had it not been for Elrohir's restraint he might have actually attacked the prince. Belegdur was furious, restrained by his older brother on one side and nephew on the other as he continued to argue with Elladan.

Estel caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and glanced over in time to see Legolas leave the table and slip out the door.

Thranduil turned his gaze from his arguing sons to the empty seat beside him and looked up, catching Estel's eyes. The human was struck by the grief in the king's eyes, and in a moment he understood what the king was asking.

"Excuse me," he said politely, turning from the table before he could even see the king's nod.

He had to find Legolas.

Not entirely familiar with the palace grounds, Estel managed to find his way out an open side door and into the gardens. As luck or some other force would have it, that was where he found Legolas.

The prince was sitting on the bank that overlooked the forest river, his back to the palace. "Please leave me alone," he called as Estel approached.

The human hesitated, but decided to ignore the prince's request. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Estel?" Legolas half-turned to look at the young man. "I'm sorry, I thought you were Brithdil."

Estel didn't say anything, but just sat on the bank beside his friend. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Legolas let out a half-laugh, half-sob. "No," he replied. "It's my fault, Estel."

"What is?" Estel asked, surprised.

"It's my fault that they're arguing. My brother is right, if I hadn't missed those two shots it would be a performance to be proud of. None of this would have happened."

"I don't understand."

"If I hadn't missed," Legolas explained in a pain-filled voice, "Belegdur wouldn't have had any cause to complain about my performance. Aranion wouldn't have argued with him to defend me, and the entire banquet hall wouldn't have known of my failings as prince."

Estel shook his head. "That argument isn't your fault," he protested. "And what if you hadn't missed? Wouldn't he have just said something else?"

Legolas sighed unhappily, drawing his knees up to his chest and gazing at the dark water. "I don't know," he replied.

They were quiet for a few moments, Estel desperately trying to find the words to comfort his friend. "Don't listen to him," he finally said. "Nothing he said in there is right."

"What if it is?" Legolas replied quietly. "What if he's right and I am dishonoring my father? What if my father is secretly displeased with me but is too ashamed of me to tell me?"

"That can't be," the human shook his head adamantly. "Did you see your father's eyes when he was watching you in the tournament? He's proud of you, Legolas?"

The prince just looked away. "I wish I could be sure."

"Then talk to him," Estel encouraged.

Legolas buried his face in his knees, trembling. "I just wish I wasn't such a failure."

Estel wrapped his arms around Legolas, his mind searching for something to say. "But you're not a failure. You won, Legolas! You won the tournament!"

"Then why does it feel like I lost?" Legolas asked, his voice breaking.

Estel just hugged the prince closer, tears forming in his own eyes as he felt the repressed sobs shake the archer's body. He wished he knew what to say to comfort Legolas. His father would have the right words; Elrond always knew the right thing to say.

But then again, sometimes words weren't needed.

_

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Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers? _

_AN: We're halfway done! Next up is chapter six: Danger in the Forest._

_PS: If you would like to see Elladan hit Belegdur over the head several times with a large club, you might want to check out the first "episode" of _Elladan's Grand Plan.


	6. Danger in the Forest

_AN: What? No Author's Note? Oh, wait...drat. Anyway, I've been delayed due to final projects and now finals week, but it will all be over come December 9th (graduation—whoot!), and then I should be able to update more consistently. Review Responses are also delayed for the same reason._

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Chapter Six: Danger in the Forest

It was some time before Estel was able to bring a much-subdued Legolas back to the banquet hall. A faint buzz of conversation had resumed by the time they returned, though he was a bit concerned to find that the high table was silent. He was also surprised to discover that Belegdur was gone, and the places had been rearranged so Legolas' place was next to Estel's—in the spot where Brithdil had been sitting.

"We were starting to get worried," Elrohir murmured as Estel sat down. "I was just about to go looking for you."

Estel offered a half-smile and a shrug. "We were talking," he said simply, not wanting to reveal that he had actually spent most of the time comforting Legolas as his new friend poured his grief out. "What happened in here?"

Elrohir glanced over at the prince. "Tell you later," he whispered.

The human nodded in agreement, looking down at his plate. He picked around at the food that was left, but found much of his appetite had disappeared. The silence of the high table was eerie. He discretely glanced up, studying the members of the royal family. For the most part, they all seemed to be in the same mood. In fact, he had never seen so much food simply pushed around on plates rather than eaten (except that one time when he was six and tried to fix dinner for his family, but that was a completely different situation).

"So, Legolas," he turned to his friend, breaking the silence. "How did you meet my brothers?"

Legolas looked up, a small smile beginning to grow. "That is a long story."

Estel groaned. "That's what _they_ always say and they never tell me anything else."

The prince's smile widened. "Truly, though, it is too long to tell here."

Sighing in faux disappointment, Estel took a tentative bite of the food still on his plate, pretending not to notice that most of the elves at the high table were watching. "Do you know any stories about them that you could tell?" he asked. "Maybe something they've never told me before?"

Legolas shot a mischievous glance at the twins. "There is the story of the first time they visited me in Mirkwood."

Elladan groaned. "Anything but that one," he muttered melodramatically, though Estel could see the sheepish grin hiding under his brother's expression.

"Why? What happened?"

"Let's just say that Elladan and I ran into a bit of trouble with the king," Elrohir said lowly.

"A _bit_ of trouble?" Legolas asked innocently. "I seem to recall my father banishing you from the palace for the next century."

"I relented, didn't I?"

The four glanced up in surprise to see Thranduil watching them, his eyes sparkling.

"Ada," Legolas cleared his throat. "If you would rather I not continue...?"

"No, go right ahead," the king waved his hand. "It is an amusing story."

"Don't we get any say in this?" Elrohir protested.

"No!" Legolas and Estel replied simultaneously. "What happened?" Estel asked again.

"It was the summer of my one-hundred and tenth year," the prince began, grinning as Elladan groaned again and buried his face in his arms. "I had been staying with your family in Rivendell, and Elladan and Elrohir were bringing me back to the palace to begin my training..."

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The rest of the feast was full of stories and remembrances, many embarrassing for either Legolas or the twins. Estel had been a bit surprised, however, when one of his brothers had told the story of the first time they'd tried to teach their human brother to ride a horse—needless to say it had ended up in a very muddy and sore Estel limping back home.

Belegdur's words seemed to have been forgotten as the feast went on, and even all mention of his existence was left out. Had it not been for one or two tales the crown prince told of his younger brother's days as an elfling, a stranger would not have known that there was even another prince of Mirkwood.

The only one who seemed bothered by this change at all was Legolas. He kept looking toward his brother's empty place with a saddened expression, as though regretting whatever circumstances had caused Belegdur to leave. Estel and his brothers did their best to distract the prince and it seemed to work, for the most part.

"Don't forget," Estel said one last time as they stood to leave the banquet hall once the feast was over, "you promised to give me an archery lesson tomorrow."

Legolas smiled and shook his head. "I won't forget. Shall I come by your rooms to get you in the morning?"

"That will be fine," Elladan replied, putting an arm around Estel and steering him away from the table.

The prince began to follow the brothers out, but was called back by his father. Estel watched in some concern as Legolas approached the king, but was relieved when Thranduil merely put an arm around his son and led him out another way, tossing a good-night to the guests as he began speaking to Legolas in a lowered voice.

"He'll be fine," Elrohir said reassuringly. "I'm sure the king just wants to make sure Legolas understands that whatever happened to his brother tonight wasn't his fault."

"What _did_ happen?" Estel asked as they made their way back to their room.

Elladan shook his head, suddenly striding ahead of them and entering their room. Elrohir gave Estel a sad glance, and the two younger beings followed the older.

"It was my fault," Elladan said, as soon as his brothers entered.

"What?" Estel frowned in confusion.

"Belegdur...he said," Elladan turned to face Estel and Elrohir, and the human was startled to see tears on his brother's face. What could Belegdur have said to hurt Elladan so?

"'Dan?" Estel asked softly, padding forward to take his brother's hand.

"It was that stupid stunt I pulled," Elladan replied, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed, resting his head in his hands.

Estel looked over at Elrohir. "I don't understand."

"After round two," the younger twin explained. "Remember?"

The human nodded. Elladan had picked him up and spun him around, then chased Legolas down to do the same to the prince. "_That_?" he asked incredulously.

"Aye," Elrohir nodded. "Among other things...the less-than-proper greeting on the steps of the palace, our monopolizing his time during the tournament...even his inviting us to sit at the high table. Belegdur brought it all upduring his tirade, listing mostly Elladan and I as responsible for Legolas' 'savage behavior'."

Estel winced. He was suddenly glad that Legolas had slipped out when he did, if it meant the prince hadn't heard everything his brother said. "Why?" he asked, more to himself than anyone else.

"Who can tell?" Elladan said with a sigh, rubbing one hand over his face. "Belegdur thinks that Legolas is spoiled because of the way Thranduil treats him, and he says he's just trying to compensate for his father's...shortcomings...in disciplining Legolas."

"What?" Estel exclaimed. "But...but anyone who spends a moment with Legolas can tell he's not been spoiled!"

"I know," Elladan said gently. "Belegdur just doesn't see that."

"It _is_ our fault," Elrohir said. "In a way," he added as Elladan shot him an odd look.

"Why?" Estel asked, wishing someone would just give him a straight answer.

"Legolas grew up in Rivendell," Elrohir explained gently. "When he was very young he was in a very bad accident, and Thranduil had to send him to Ada to be healed."

"After a time they agreed that Ada would keep Legolas until he came of age, and then Legolas would return to Mirkwood. Both the king and Ada thought it would be best if Legolas could grow up away from the shadow," Elladan added.

Estel stared at his brothers, a hint of incredulity threatening to show itself as a smile. "That's _it_?" he said, a laugh bursting out at the looks on his brothers' faces. "That's the 'long story'?"

"There's more to it," Elrohir protested, trying to silence his human brother's mirth. "There is a long story, that's just a summary."

"The condensed version," Elladan agreed.

"So will you tell me the whole story now?" Estel pleaded.

The twins exchanged grins. "Some other time," Elladan replied, ruffling Estel's hair. The older twin's face saddened again as he sat back. "What are we going to do?"

"About Legolas?" Elrohir asked.

Elladan nodded. "He's going to blame himself for this, you know."

Estel didn't mention that he already did.

"Maybe we should just see what sort of frame of mind he's in tomorrow," Elrohir suggested. "He may be able to just forget what his brother said."

The other two nodded in agreement, and Estel hoped that Elrohir might just be right this time.

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"You look cheerful this morning," Elrohir commented when Legolas met them just outside their room.

The prince laughed. It was true...the depressed air he had worn the night before seemed to have disappeared, leaving in its wake an elf very similar to the one who had met them when they first arrived. "My father and I had a long conversation last night," he explained as the four headed out toward the archery fields. "He just wanted to take some time to explain just how proud he was of me."

Elladan smiled broadly. "Of course he is...we all are."

"It's not just that," Legolas replied. "He hasn't had too much time to spend with me...it was nice to have him all to myself for a while."

Estel felt himself nodding in agreement. He was glad that Elrond always took a few moments when he could to spend time with his sons, but he couldn't imagine fighting for his father's attention with eight siblings and a kingdom. He was sure Legolas still felt guilty about the events of the night before, but maybe the time he'd been able to spend with Thranduil had gone a long way to healing the hurts caused by Belegdur's thoughtless words.

"We're not going to the archery field?" Elrohir asked suddenly as the prince led them toward the gate.

"There's a lesson today," Legolas explained. "The Archery Master likes to hold one right after the main tournament while archery is still fresh in his students' minds."

"So where are we going?"

"A small clearing, not ten minutes from the gate," the prince nodded to the guards as they passed out of the palace grounds. "It's often used as a practice ground, but there shouldn't be anyone else there today."

"Aren't you afraid of the dangers of the forest?" Elladan asked, dropping his voice to a spooky tone.

Legolas snorted. "Elladan, there isn't anything within ten minutes of the palace that could harm us."

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The hike to the clearing was short, as Legolas had said, and within fifteen minutes of leaving the palace grounds Elladan, Elrohir, and Estel all found themselves under the tutelage of the young prince of Mirkwood. Elladan and Elrohir had found out that morning that there was to be an archery exposition over the next few days. It wasn't an tournament, but a show in which the archers were divided into classes,and was asimply a chance for archers to show their skills without the pressure of the tournament.While Legolas couldn't qualifyfor the exposition--classes were based on experience rather than skill--he was more than willing to help the twins as much as he could as they preparedfor the exposition.

He didn't seem to mind being excluded, though, Estel noticed. Then again, after defeating one of the best archers Lothlorien had to offer maybe being left out of theexposition wasn't a big deal.

Legolas proved to be an excellent teacher, and within moments he had corrected Elladan's stance, Estel's grip, and shown Elrohir a way to improve his aim.

Estel was very pleased when, under Legolas' instruction, he manage to hit the third ring inward on the target—closer to the bull's-eye than he had ever hit before.

"Nice, Estel," Elrohir complimented his brother. "A little more practice and you'll be better than Elladan."

Elladan made a face and pretended to draw an arrow to shoot Elrohir—he didn't actually use an arrow lest his hand slip and he actually fired.

The human and the prince laughed at the twins' antics as Elrohir pretended to cringe in fear from Elladan's imaginary arrows.

Suddenly, Legolas held up a hand for silence, his eyes scanning the treetops around the clearing. "Hear that?" he whispered.

Estel stilled, straining to hear. He thought he caught a faint skittering of legs in the trees, but that wasn't possible, was it?

"_Spiders!"_ Elladan asked in disbelief. "This close to the palace?"

Legolas nodded, drawing an arrow. "They must have been attracted by the commotion of the last two days."

Elrohir pushed Estel to stand in the center of the three elves. "Should we make a run for it?"

"No," Legolas shook his head. "They have us surrounded."

"How many?"

"No more than a dozen," the prince estimated. "We must alert the guard, there may be more on the way."

"Right," Elladan agreed, then snickered darkly. "Only you, Legolas. Only you would find trouble less than a mile from your home."

Legolas shook his head in exasperation. "Here they come," he muttered.

And Estel got his first glimpse of the infamous giant spiders of Mirkwood. Two descended straight from the trees above, while three more scuttled in from the forest around the clearing.

"Do not let them block them path," Legolas called, felling one spider who had begun to spin a web to do just that.

Estel found his heart pounding in fear. He wished he was more skilled with a bow, but with his brothers and the prince around him he feared he might hit one of them if he joined the fray.

"Estel!" Elladan shouted, casting his bow aside in favor of the sword he had, thankfully, remembered to wear that morning. "Get down!"

Dropping to the ground obediently, Estel crawled away from the battling elves to huddle near the targets. He watched in awe as the three older beings slew the spiders with ruthless efficiency, moving as though they were of one mind.

He suddenly noticed that there were other spiders joining the fray. The smaller ones had only been about a big as a housecat, but one of the newer spiders was at least the size of a large dog. He shivered in disgust. Estel had never minded spiders before, but he wondered if that would all change after today.

"Estel!" the prince suddenly screamed in warning. The human whipped around to see a particularly large, evil-looking spider behind him, rising up on its four hind legs and preparing to strike. He tried to scurry back, cursing his defenselessness. The spider advanced, hissing evilly in some foul tongue.

Estel backed into one of the targets and pulled himself up, still facing the spider before him. It was big...taller than he was when it stretched itself up on its hind legs. He could vaguely hear someone yelling at him, telling him to move, but the movement of the spider was nearly hypnotic.

Just as the spider was about to strike, Estel felt someone grab him from behind and whirl him around, shielding the human from the spider.

A fair voice cried out in pain, and long golden hair tumbled into Estel's face as the elf collapsed limply against the human.

"Legolas!" Elrohir cried, firing the fatal shot into the attacking spider.

Estel let out a cry of his own, fumbling to catch the prince as they both fell to the ground. "No," he whispered hoarsely, staring into Legolas' still features.

TBC...

_

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MWAHAHAHAHA—I mean—Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers? _

_AN: Here's a fun note: I'm borderline arachnophobic. As in I am twenty-two and still scream like a little girl when I find a spider in my room and have to get someone else to take care of it. Kinda gave myself the heebie-jeebies with this chapter, you know?_

_The "long story" of how Legolas went to live in Rivendell as well as Elladan and Elrohir's visit to Mirkwood are part of _Fear No Darkness_, which I'll begin as soon as this story is finished._


	7. Ward of the Healers

_AN: Part of this chapter gets a little gross, but I've tried to keep it from being graphic. Sorry if it grosses you out or anything._

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Chapter Seven: Ward of the Healers

"Legolas?" Estel called, his voice rising in concern as he shook the elf-prince.

"Estel!" Elrohir dropped to his knees beside his brother, casting a glance at the spider that now lay some feet away, still jerking in its death-throes. "Are you hurt?"

Estel shook his head. "'Ro...is he?"

"He's not dead," Elrohir said hastily, his fingers fumbling for a pulse. "Elladan?"

"I've got it!" the older twin called back. The two had slain enough spiders that Elladan could keep the remainder off without his twin's help. "We might want to get out of here, just the same."

"Right!" Elrohir replied. "Don't worry, Estel, he's just paralyzed," he said to the human, gently lifting the younger elf as he did so.

"Paralyzed?" Estel felt a rush of relief that the prince wasn't dead, though Elrohir's words brought a whole new set of concerns to the human's mind.

"Spiders don't kill their victims immediately," the younger twin explained. "They prefer food that's still alive. The venom will wear off in a few hours."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. In fact," Elrohir turned back to look at the spider that had bitten Legolas, but whatever he had been about to say died on his lips.

"What is it?" Estel asked sharply, his fears beginning to return.

"I've never seen a spider like that before."

"Yeah?" Elladan asked, dropping back to stand in front of his brothers. "We might want to consider running right about now."

Estel glanced up, eyes widening as three other spiders just like the one Elrohir had killed entered the clearing.

"Running would be good," Elrohir agreed."Come on, Estel!" he called, turning to flee down the path back to the palace.

"I'll hold them off for you," Elladan called after his brothers, trailing behind them at a slower pace to battle the spiders. "Hurry!"

Estel sprinted to keep up with his brother, fear lending speed to his flight. He could have sworn he heard skittering in the bushes, and half-expected a spider to leap out and attack him.

Thankfully, though, they reached the gates without further incident.

"Spiders!" Elrohir called to the guards. "The prince was bitten...my brother is holding them off!"

To their credit, the guards at the gate did not hesitate a moment. One took off down the path to aid Elladan, another to the barracks to find more help, and the guards who had been at the doors to the palace ran up to cover the gate.

"This way, Estel," Elrohir shouted, pushing through the elves that had gathered to find out what the commotion was about.

The elves in the courtyard cleared the way when one of the guards announced that Elrohir was taking the prince to the healers, and Estel found himself sprinting again as his brother took off down passages in the most direct route to that wing.

They burst through rather unceremoniously, Elrohir hollering for help as soon as he set foot inside the door.

"What is going on?" one healer, a she-elf about their father's age, asked sternly.

"Prince Legolas," Elrohir explained, carrying the prince to a nearby bed while Estel collapsed against the wall to catch his breath. "He was bitten by a spider in the forest."

"What kind?" the healer asked, placing a hand against the prince's forehead and frowning at what she felt.

"I don't know. It was big."

"Can you describe it?" she said impatiently, half-glaring at Elrohir.

"It was big," Elrohir shrugged. "It had green markings."

"It was taller than me when it was on its back legs," Estel piped up, finally able to breathe again after the mad dash from the clearing to the healers. "It had hairy legs and a green diamond on its belly. It was saying something when it attacked, but I couldn't understand it."

The healer groaned. "Only the prince," she muttered, shaking her head. "How long ago was he bitten?" she asked brusquely, snapping orders to the other healers.

"Not fifteen minutes ago," Elrohir replied, standing back as the Mirkwood healers began to work.

"Good, good," the healer nodded. "We have plenty of time then. Here, help me," she said, waving Elrohir forward. "Where is it?"

"On the back, near his left shoulder," the dark-haired elf replied, helping the healer roll Legolas onto his stomach.

The healer hissed in sympathy as she cut away Legolas' tunic. "We still have time," she said reassuringly as Elrohir blanched.

"Is that normal?"

"For a Great Spider," the healer nodded.

"Celebalqua?" one of the other healers called. "It's ready."

"Bring it on over," the healer at Legolas' side replied.

'It' turned out to be a steaming pot filled with some sort of disgusting-smelling liquid. Celebalqua—the healer tending Legolas—dipped a cloth into the liquid and glanced up at Elrohir. "He needs to be upright."

The younger elf nodded and beckoned Estel over. "Sit here," Elrohir directed, maneuvering Estel into a place on the bed where they could lean Legolas against him, draping the prince's right arm over Estel's shoulder's. The human was surprised at how cold the elf's skin felt. He fought down a gag and looked away as he caught sight of the bite on the prince's shoulder. It was swollen as big around as two of his fingers, red and inflamed, and oozing a greenish-white liquid. Elrohir sat at the prince's left side, turned to help Celebalqua should the healer need it.

"Ready?" the she-elf asked, wringing the cloth out.

Elrohir and Estel nodded, and Celebalqua pressed the steaming cloth against the wound on the prince's back.

Legolas' body jerked reflexively, though he remained unconscious. Estel wrinkled his nose as a strong, foul odor filled the room as whatever herbs were in the pot began reacting with the spider's venom.

"I think it's working," the healer said quietly, pulling the cloth away after a few moments, and used a clean part to wipe excess fluid from around the wound. Estel glanced over and quickly regretted doing so when he saw what the cloth had absorbed. He was suddenly glad they'd only eaten a light breakfast. "A few more treatments and then we need to get some tea down him."

"But what if he's still unconscious?" Estel asked in a worried tone.

"We'll have to force it down him then," Celebalqua replied, throwing the soiled cloth away and reaching for a new one. She dipped this one into the pot and squeezed the excess liquid out, shifting her position to sit behind the prince before pressing the new cloth to the wound.

They had been through three such treatments and were in the middle of the fourth when Estel noticed a faint wince that screwed up his friend's features ever-so-slightly. "I think he's waking up," he said quietly.

Celebalqua moved Elrohir's hand to cover the cloth pressed on the bite and knelt before the prince. "Legolas?" she called softly, one hand touching the young elf's cheek. "Can you hear me?"

Legolas whimpered very faintly, his head lolling against Estel's. The human gave a sigh of relief as the elf's eyes opened a slit, bright blue in his pale face. "Legolas?" he asked, glancing over at the healer who was watching her patient intently.

"Can you remember what happened?" Celebalqua asked, draping a blanket over the prince's knees when the young elf began shivering.

The prince's eyes squeezed shut, either in pain or concentration, and Estel was alarmed at the lack of strength he saw in his friend. "S-spider?" Legolas finally replied faintly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, that's it...good," the healer smiled, patting the prince on the knee. "It was a Great Spider. It bit you on the shoulder...you need to stay awake now," she gently chided as Legolas' head drooped forward. "Keep talking to him," she said to Estel, standing up to speak with one of the other healers. "And change that," she called back to Elrohir.

"We were worried," Estel said, shifting his position to see his friend's face better. "Elrohir killed the spider, and Elladan's out with the guards making sure there aren't any more. I guess I got my wish," he said with a half-hearted laugh, remember how just days ago he had been begging Legolas to tell him what the giant spiders were like.

"How do you feel?" Elrohir asked in concern as he peeled away the old cloth. "Do you feel numb or are you in pain?" he reiterated, having realized he was asking a foolish question.

"B-both," Legolas replied, a shiver running up his body.

"That's good," Elrohir said encouragingly, dipping a clean cloth from the pile into the pot and wringing it out. "This might sting," he said in warning and pressed the cloth down on the bite.

Estel tightened his grip as Legolas hissed in pain, his face somehow going even paler. "The venom must be wearing off if you can feel that," Elrohir murmured.

"Still awake?" Celebalqua asked, sitting next to Estel with a mug in her hands. "You need to drink this, Legolas. Try to keep it down...it will help treat the effects of the poison."

Legolas nodded weakly, and Estel felt him struggling to pull his right arm around to take the mug. The human took it instead, holding it up for the prince to drink. "Just let me do it," he said with a hint of impatience as Legolas gave him a look that clearly said he didn't want any help.

He held the mug up to the prince's lips, grimacing as Legolas gagged at the taste of whatever was in it. "I know," Celebalqua said soothingly, moving over to Elrohir's side to check on the bite. "It may taste bad, but you know it's the only thing that works."

"How does it look?" Estel asked nervously, pulling the mug away with some relief as his friend finally emptied it.

"We'll have to drain it," Celebalqua said with a sigh. "I'm sorry we can't give you anything for the pain," she added to Legolas.

The prince, his skin now grayish in hue as he fought back the nausea induced by whatever potion the healer had given him, nodded. "Keep talking to him," she said to Estel, standing up to speak with one of the other healers.

Estel's mind raced as he tried to come up with something to talk about. Funny...sometimes it seemed like he could never stop talking but now that he had to he couldn't think of a thing to say.

"Estel, remember that first hunting trip 'Dan and I tried to take you on?" Elrohir asked, evidently seeing his brother's dilemma.

"How could I forget?" Estel retorted, rolling his eyes. He focused on the prince, fighting down a shudder as the healer reappeared with another healer at her side and a tray of what looked like surgical tools. "It was just last year," he began, determined to keep both his and Legolas' attention away from the healers. "Ada finally said they could take me with them, provided that we were only going to check the trap lines and that we wouldn't travel more than a few hours from home."

"That was the first time since you were a child that you'd ever been out of the valley, wasn't it?" Elrohir interjected.

"Yes," Estel nodded. "So you can imagine I was excited. Well, Elladan and Elrohir kept me up late into the night talking about how much fun we were going to have and how they were going to take me on an even longer trip next time."

"That was all Elladan!" Elrohir protested. "I was the one trying to convince him to let you sleep."

Estel made a face at his brother. "They finally decided to leave me in peace and let me sleep," he continued, shuddering as Legolas winced and cried out softly in pain as one of the healers punctured the spider bite and began to drain it. "But both of them were worried that I wouldn't wake up in time, so they each promised to wake me up in the morning in plenty of time to leave. Little did I know, though, that Elladan told Elrohir that he would wake me up, and Elrohir told him the same thing.

"Apparently," he mock-glared at Elrohir, "they each decided on their own that the other was going to wake me up, and when noon the next day rolled around I was nowhere to be found."

"Elladan asked me if I'd remembered to wake Estel up," Elrohir continued, picking up the story at that point. "I told him I thought _he_ was going to and we both ran up to Estel's room to see if he was there. And he was."

Elrohir had the good sense to look guilty. "He was upset because he'd thought we'd both forgotten him."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Estel retorted, sticking his tongue out at his brother.

"We're finished," Celebalqua said quietly, handing the basin and tray to her assistant who whisked it out of the room. "Elrohir, can you wrap his shoulder while I find something for him to wear?"

"Of course," the younger twin nodded, letting the rest of the story go untold as he bandaged the prince's wound.

"Do you feel any better?" Estel asked quietly.

Legolas groaned, sagging against his friend. "My st-stomach," he whispered.

"Your stomach hurts?" the human asked in some concern.

"It's the medicine," Celebalqua explained, coming over with a clean shirt a few sizes too large for the prince. "It's the only thing that works for these kinds of spider bites, but it also causes cramps and nausea."

She and Elrohir helped the prince slip the shirt on, keeping his left arm out of the sleeve and loose under the fabric. "If it hurts too badly I can put it in a sling," the healer offered.

"What's going on outside?" Elrohir muttered, jumping up and rushing to the window. "The guards and Elladan are back," he called. "I'm going to go see what happened."

His concern for his twin obvious, Elrohir was out of the room before anyone could reply, barely remembering not to slam the door as he left. "Elrohir," Estel sighed, shaking his head and catching the faintest smile from the prince.

"Well," Celebalqua said with a small laugh, "let's get you over to a clean bed."

Estel helped the healer half-carry Legolas over to one of the other beds and watched as she set up a screento give the prince some privacy. "You need to rest if you can," she said, helping Legolas lie on his right side, placing pillows against him to keep him from rolling over and pulling a couple of blankets up as the prince was still shivering. "If you can get some sleep you'll feel much better."

Legolas nodded, weakly thanking the healer who simply smiled and moved off to clean up the soiled sheets and bandages.

"I hope you feel better soon," Estel said, squeezing the prince's hand encouragingly. "We can come back later if you like."

The prince opened his mouth to say something, but nodded instead.

Estel bit back a grin. Apparently the prince liked being left alone in the healers' wing as much as he did. "Then again, Elrohir and Elladan will probably be held up for hours helping the guards make plans to find the spider nests," he said, pulling a chair up next to the bed and sitting down. "I can wait for them here just as easily as anywhere."

Legolas smiled back at him. "Probably," he agreed, his voice still shaky and soft. "What happened next?"

"What do you mean?" Estel asked, his brow furrowing.

"Did you go hunting?"

"Oh," the human laughed. "No, it was already too late for that. But my brothers felt so bad about it that they convinced our father to let us three go camping a few days later. It was great—but then I fell into the river and caught a terrible cold."

Legolas snorted in laughter. "You're serious?" he asked, seeing the serious expression on his friend's face.

"Unfortunately," Estel shook his head wryly. "I had to stay in bed for days after, and my father swore he'd never let me leave Imladris again. He relented, though, and let me go the next time my brothers were checking the trap lines as long as I promised not to fall in the river."

"Did you?"

"No," Estel replied, trying to sound offended. "I did fall out of a tree and break my arm," he added ruefully.

The prince laughed, wincing as pain shot through his body. "How did your father ever let you leave home again?"

"I'm not sure," the human shrugged, lacing his fingers together and resting them behind his head. "I think he said something about my complaining driving him to madness and that he can no longer be responsible for the consequences should I leave his supervision." He smiled at the elf's laughter, relieved that his friend seemed to be regaining some strength as the medicines fought the poison in his body.

"My father feels the same," Legolas said softly, fighting back a yawn. "He says I manage to get myself injured somehow every time I leave the palace grounds."

"Do you?" Estel asked.

"No," the prince replied. "I think there was one time I returned unharmed."

Estel laughed. That sounded like so many conversations his brothers and his father had had over the years. He looked over at Legolas and noticed that the blonde elf's eyelids were drooping in exhaustion. "Go to sleep, Legolas," he said encouragingly. "I'll stay here until you wake up."

The elf sighed and let his eyes close. "Thank you," he whispered, his body finally relaxing in sleep.

Estel frowned in concern that his friend was sleeping with his eyes closed, but knew that must be due to his injury. He leaned back in his chair with a sigh, studying the criss-crossing beams on the ceiling.

He didn't even notice when he himself drifted off to sleep._

* * *

_

_Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers?_

_AN: There will be an explanation about the Great Spiders in the next chapter. I just couldn't find a good spot to put it in here. I should have chapter eight and the next "episode" of _Elladan's Grand Plan_ up by the end of the week. _


	8. Complications

_AN: I actually have nothing to say this time. Waste of an author's note, I know._

* * *

Chapter Eight: Complications

"_Should we wake him, 'Dan?"_

"_I don't know...he looks so peaceful when he's sleeping."_

"_Aye, almost innocent."_

Estel groggily cracked one eye open, groaning at the identical faces staring down at him with mirrored expressions.

"Good morning, Estel," Elladan said cheerfully.

The human groaned again, straightening in his chair and rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "Morning?" he asked. "I was asleep?"

"No longer than half an hour," Elrohir said reassuringly, rolling his eyes at Elladan. "As you can see, our dear eldest brother managed to return from the spider hunt unscathed."

Estel suddenly remembered where he was and sat straight up. "Legolas!" he cried, or would have had Elrohir not clamped a hand over his mouth.

"The prince is still sleeping," the younger twin said in a cautionary tone.

The human wriggled away from his brother's hand, making a face as he did so. "Elladan's right, your hand does taste funny," he complained, keeping his voice low.

Elladan chuckled at this. "I thought you might like to know that the guards are organizing parties to hunt out what Great Spiders might be left in the area around the palace," he said, drawing his brothers some distance away so they wouldn't wake the prince.

Estel was interested. "Are you joining them?" he asked his brothers.

The twins shook their heads. "We don't know the forest well enough," Elrohir explained.

"It's better if we just stay out of the way," Elladan concurred. "Are you all right, Estel?"

"I'm fine," the human said softly. "Not a scratch on me."

He quieted, looking over to the bed where his friend lay sleeping. "He saved my life, didn't he?"

The twins glanced at each other with concerned expressions. "We don't know that the spider would have killed you," Elrohir said gently. "But yes, he did save you."

"It's my fault he's like this," Estel continued, glancing up at his brothers as he felt tears gathering behind his eyes. "If I had just moved out of the way..."

Elrohir and Elladan knelt and enfolded their brother in a gentle hug. Estel sniffed, burying his face in one of the twin's tunics (he couldn't tell which). Now that the moment had passed, and the rush to treat Legolas, the events of the morning were finally setting in.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. The twins had known Legolas almost as long as the prince had been alive...and in one short afternoon Estel realized he could have permanently ended that friendship.

"He'll be fine," Elladan said, pulling away to look Estel in the eyes. "Don't worry yourself about it."

"He would have felt worse if you had been hurt," Elrohir added, giving Estel an extra squeeze before standing. There was a prominent wet spot on his tunic, so at least Estel could tell which shoulder he'd been crying on.

"It's in his nature to protect his friends," Elladan explained, sitting cross-legged on the floor and looking fondly over at the prince. "When he wakes up remind us to tell you something about his time in Imladris. I can't count the number of times he's been injured trying to protect us."

"Even when he was too small to do much," Elrohir said with a soft laugh.

Estel suddenly noticed something odd. "Haven't any of his family come up here?"

The twins grew grave. "The king was informed, but he's been unable to leave the court just yet. Some dispute concerning one of his guards and one of the visitors." Elladan said.

"I don't know if all of his sisters have heard," Elrohir added. "Or the crown prince, though I daresay he's stuck in court with the king."

"Oh, but we found out Belegdur left this morning."

Estel was startled at this. "What? To go where?"

Elladan nodded. "Yes, he left before daybreak to visit a friend in the village, about half a day's journey from here."

"Oh, he'll be furious when he finds out about this," Elrohir said with a sigh.

"Apparently he often goes on these visits," Elladan shrugged. "I guess it gives the rest of the family time to recover before his next outburst."

Estel sighed heavily. "Is he really going to be all right?" he asked, looking back at Legolas.

"He'll be fine," Elrohir replied, placing an encouraging hand on his little brother's shoulders. "I spoke with Celebalqua...the next day or two might be a little rough, but he should be back to normal in time for the award ceremony."

"So don't worry," Elladan teased, poking at Estel. "Just concentrate on keeping him cheered up."

"Aye, this ward is a gloomy place."

Estel snorted. "And ours is so cheery," he said dryly.

Elrohir laughed and was about to respond when the door to the healing ward flew open, banging against the wall behind it.

It was King Thranduil, and he did not look happy.

"Celebalqua!" the king demanded, calling the healer forward. "Where is my son?"

The she-elf bowed to the king and led him back to where Legolas lay, startled awake by his father's entrance.

Two dark-haired beings, an elf and a she-elf, followed the king at some distance. Estel recognized them as members of the royal family, but could not tell which ones.

"Legolas," Thranduil said in a gentle tone, standing over the prince. "What happened?"

"It was a spider, My Lord," Elladan piped up, seeing that the prince was still weak. "He was bitten."

"I did not ask you, Elladan Elrondion," the king said, turning to glare at the younger elf. Estel gulped and stepped a little closer to Elrohir.

"But since you have spoken up," Thranduil continued, taking a step toward the brothers, "would any of you care to explain this? Would any of you like to tell me why my son is lying in the healing chambers?"

"Ada," the she-elf whispered sharply.

"I wish to know what happened," the king said, his voice low and dangerous. "I want to know why my son almost died!"

Estel gasped and felt his knees grow weak. He barely heard Elladan—or was this Elrohir?—stammering out an explanation as a strange ringing filled his ears and he grabbed onto a nearby chair for support. He felt like he was about to pass out. Was this true? Had his brothers been shielding him from the complete truth?

Had his friend almost died because he was too stupid to get away from a spider?

"I have heard what happened!" the king thundered. "What I want to know is why you were there...what was so important to take my son away from the safety of these walls?"

Estel swallowed, and straightened as best as he could. "P-please, Sire," he stammered. "It was...h-he was trying to help me with my archery."

Thranduil stared at the human, his eyes glittering. "Your archery?" he asked in a dangerous-sounding voice. "I do not want to see you near my son again," he said softly, but in a tone that would allow no argument.

"My Lord," Elrohir protested, but the king was already turning away.

Tears filled Estel's eyes and he looked down, afraid to even see his friend's reaction to the king's words. If Thranduil felt this way...surely Legolas would hate him, too.

"Come with me," the dark-haired elf, who had entered with Thranduil, gently tugged on Elladan's sleeve.

"It's best if we leave," he continued as they stepped into the hall. "My wife will speak with him...she can usually reason with her father."

Elladan put an arm around Estel, gently squeezing his shoulders as he did. "Was he serious?"

The elf sighed, shaking his head. "The king is very protective of Legolas, as we all are. As soon as he has a chance to calm down and sees that the prince will be all right he'll likely change his mind."

He looked up, dark brown eyes softening. "Thranduil knows that you would never purposely lead the prince into danger. But with the events of the last day, Belegdur's accusations at dinner, the dispute with some of the guests, and Legolas' history..." the elf let his voice trail off and shrugged. "We'll just have to see if Luinlothiel can get him to understand that he might be overreacting."

Estel looked up at Elladan, who gave him an encouraging smile. "I'm sorry," the human said quietly.

The elf, who Estel now recognized as Gilfaroth (Luinlothiel's husband) smiled kindly. "I don't blame you for what happened," he said. "It was an accident."

"But if I had moved faster," Estel choked out, tearing up. "If I hadn't been so slow he wouldn't have been hurt."

"The gaze of a Great Spider is somewhat hypnotic," Gilfaroth said, leaning against the wall as he looked at the three brothers (who all had guilty expressions). "There are few who can escape it who have never seen one before."

"Tell me," Elrohir spoke up, resting a hand on Estel's shoulder, "what is the difference between a Great Spider and the other spiders?"

"The guards said they were a greater threat," Elladan interjected. "But they didn't say why."

Gilfaroth nodded thoughtfully. "The Great Spider," he began, "is the largest breed of spider in Mirkwood, and until about half a millennia ago it was the rarest. They are known to be as intelligent as an orc chieftan, and have a language all their own though some have learned Elvish or the Common Tongue."

"Where they the spiders those dwarves ran into a few years ago?" Elladan asked curiously.

"No, those were the more common Green Spiders. Less cunning and more greedy; entire colonies of Green Spiders have been killed because of infighting over their prey. They are easy to manage or avoid, and do little harm if they're left alone. Unless, of course, a Great Spider finds their colony."

The elf sighed, pushing away from the wall to pace a few steps. "One of the most dangerous things about the Great Spiders is that they have the ability to control lesser breeds and organize them into attack forces, like the spiders you saw today. They also rarely build webs, though they will take over other nests, and prefer to hunt their prey. And the prey they prefer are elves."

Estel shivered. "What do you mean?" he asked, ignoring the illusion of tiny legs crawling up the back of his neck.

"A Great Spider will go out of its way to snare and capture an elf, whereas other breeds of spiders are willing to wait for whatever comes their way. A few centuries ago a group of Great Spiders attacked one of the outlying settlements and took six elves. We only retrieved three, and two of them died later from the poison."

"I thought spider venom only paralyzes," Elrohir said, puzzled.

"It does, but the poison from a Great Spider causes other complications. If left unchecked it can damage the heart and lungs, cause permanent paralysis, and even kill."

"But Legolas will be all right, won't he?" Estel asked.

"I believe so. He only went untreated a few minutes, so he's not in any danger unless treatments stop."

"He seemed fine earlier."

"The medicine had just begun working," Gilfaroth explained. "We've been dealing with Great Spiders for centuries now, I've seen bites like his dozens of times. He'll be in some pain and be chilled for a while, but that's all. The stomach cramps that vile brew Celebalqua calls medicine are worse than the effects of the poison," he added with a laugh.

Estel sighed in relief, though he still felt guilty that his friend had to suffer so much for saving him.

His focus drifted slightly as one of his brothers asked about the parties that were setting out to hunt the spiders. Part of him wanted to excuse himself and go back to their chambers, as he didn't seem to be doing any good here, while the rest of him desperately wanted to burst into the healers' ward and throw himself at Thranduil's feet to apologize for what happened.

He was so lost in thought he almost didn't notice when the door to the ward opened and the dark-haired she-elf, Princess Luinlothiel, stepped out.

"How is he?" Gilfaroth asked, sweeping an arm around his wife.

The princess gave a small smile. "He wants to see you, Estel," she said to the human.

Estel was startled. "But the king said..."

"My father wants to see you," Luinlothiel reiterated. "Alone," she added as Elladan and Elrohir moved to join their brothers.

"Everything will be fine," Elrohir whispered, squeezing Estel's shoulder reassuringly.

Estel nodded numbly, slipping past the princess and into the ward.

He hesitated on the threshold. He couldn't decide if he felt more like running for his life or pleading for the king's mercy.

"Come here, please, Estel," the king called from behind the partition where the healers had placed Legolas.

Swallowing back his fear, Estel timidly crossed the room to stand at the foot of his friend's bed, facing the king.

Thranduil studied the human for a few moments, as though gauging his emotions. "I believe I may have overreacted," he finally said. "Legolas has told me that the events of this morning were no fault of your own."

"Y-yes, Sire," Estel stammered, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I didn't mean for it to happen. If I had known there was any danger I wouldn't have said anything about archery. If you really want me to, I-I'll go away and never come back."

The king's gaze never wavered, but Estel thought he saw something soften in the slightest. "I understand that the incident with the spiders was not your doing," he finally said, "but it is not in my nature to forget the danger you placed my son in so readily. At his request I am lifting the ban I placed upon you, but know this," he added, his voice hardening ever-so-slightly, "if I feel that you are putting my son in danger unnecessarily, I will have you banished from this palace without a second thought. Do you understand, Estel Elrondion?"

Estel's eyes had dropped to the floor, unable to match the king's gaze. He swallowed, fighting back tears at Thranduil's condemning words. "I understand," he whispered.

"Legolas has asked to speak with you privately," the king continued, rising to his feet. "Good day, Estel."

The human barely nodded, not daring to look up. He shuffled over to the chair and sat down, studying his fingers and blinking back tears.

"Estel?" Legolas asked softly, his voice still rough and weak-sounding.

"Yes, Prince Legolas?" Estel replied.

A hand groped out to take his, pale fingers trembling slightly. "I'm sorry," the prince whispered.

At this Estel finally looked up, shocked to see how grieved his friend was. "It's not your fault!" he exclaimed, jumping out of the chair to kneel beside the bed, holding the elf's hand tightly. "If I had moved out of that spider's way none of this would happen...you can't blame yourself for any of this."

"My father," Legolas shivered, his grip on Estel's hand tightening slightly for a moment. "What he said...I am so sorry, Estel."

The human looked down, sighing. "He was right. It was my fault you were in danger."

"Those spiders were likely attracted to the palace by all the visitors who have been coming, and the tournament and everything that's been going on," Legolas said quietly. "If they hadn't attacked us, they likely would have snared some of the travelers going home after the tournament."

Estel blinked in surprise. He hadn't thought of that. "Thank you," he said, tears once again threatening to gather in his eyes, though this time tears of gratitude rather than shame or grief.

Legolas looked at him, a puzzled expression screwing up his face. "For what?"

"For saving my life."

The prince smiled, squeezing Estel's hand reassuringly. "I would do no less for a friend, Estel."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_Estel was walking down the long hall to the healers, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with one hand._

_He couldn't remember at what point he, Elladan, and Elrohir had stopped reminiscing with Legolas the night before and gone to their chambers to sleep, but he knew it was now morning and wanted to find out how his friend was getting along._

_He rounded the corner to the healers, stopping in front of the large double doors. _

_Something was wrong. He could feel it._

_He tentatively pushed the doors open, stumbling back in surprise as they were pulled open from the inside._

_Belegdur glared down at him, brown eyes sparking in anger. "How could you?" the prince demanded, his voice echoing hollowly in the healers' ward. "He tried to be your friend...how could you let this happen?"_

_The older prince stormed away from Estel and down the hall._

_Heart pounding in fear, Estel pushed into the ward, his shaking steps somehow taking him back to where Legolas had been sleeping._

_His brothers appeared, towering over him. "How could you, Estel?" Elladan asked, his face dark with hatred._

"_He was our friend for longer than you've been alive," Elrohir added cruelly. "We shall tell Adar of this."_

"_I'm sure Lord Elrond will be pleased at what his _son_ has done," Elladan spat out, putting a cruel and sarcastic tone on the word 'son'._

_The twins pushed by Estel, following Belegdur's steps out the door and away from Estel._

_Swallowing a lump of cold fear in his throat, Estel continued to make his way toward Legolas' bed, though everything inside him was warning him to run._

_The king was sitting beside the bed, his golden head bowed. "You killed him," Thranduil said accusingly._

_He whirled around and grabbed Estel by the tunic. "You killed my son!"_

_Estel caught a glimpse of the bed behind Thranduil._

_Legolas was lying there, pale and still as death._

"_I didn't mean to," Estel protested, though his words didn't seem to have any sound._

"_You killed him," the king replied, pushing Estel away from him so that the human landed painfully a few feet away._

"_No," Estel whispered, looking down at his hands._

_They were covered in blood._

"_NO!"_

"Estel! Wake up!"

Estel jerked away, panting for breath. Elladan's concerned face hovered just inches away from his. "'D-Dan?" he asked. "I killed him."

The older twin sighed and simply wrapped his arms around Estel. "It was a nightmare, Estel, just a nightmare."

Mind still reeling from his dream, Estel could only cling to his brother as he cried and trust that Elladan was right.

TBC...

_

* * *

Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers? _

_Almost done...only two chapters and an epilogue to go! And I should be able to get chapter nine up Monday or Tuesday, unless something drastic comes up._

_By the way, if anyone's interested, I've based a lot of this spider stuff off of the spiders in the Mirkwood Forest level (Spiders and Flies) of Sierra's _The Hobbit_ video game. If you've played it, I'm considering the three spiders at the end of the level Great Spiders and their minions lesser spiders. Now, let's not talk about spiders anymore because I keep thinking I feel them crawling on me. Eugh, there go the heebie-jeebies again. _


	9. Recovery

_AN: Anyone like to guess why this post's a few hours late? I'll give you a hint; "Hello! My name is Yuggster's Computer, and I decided to crash multiple times in a row while she was trying to write this chapter." Grrr. So my computer is likely going to the computer doctor soon, so I might not be able to finish this story by Christmas like I was planning. Again, Grrr._

_Due to events in the story changing, I have had to alter a tiny part of chapter six. It's nothing drastic, I've just changed the secondary tournaments to exhibitions. I tried to continue the story with the other tournaments but it got too bogged down, so this makes my life so much easier and lets me interject some stuff I liked that got cut out in the early draftwork. Sorry if you were really looking forward to another tournament._

* * *

Chapter Nine: Recovery

Estel awoke slowly, vaguely aware that someone was holding him. He blinked for a moment, wondering at the curtain of dark hair that was obscuring his vision. His hair wasn't that long, was it?

Then he remembered. The nightmare...his brother waking him up and holding him as he cried himself back to sleep...a second nightmare in which the spiders had gotten both his brothers...waking up to Elladan's soothing voice, assuring him they were just dreams...

He shuddered, accidentally waking his brother up as he did.

"How do you feel, Estel?" Elladan asked in concern, sitting up and looking down on the human with concern in his eyes.

Estel shrugged, pushing himself up against the pillows. He drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He hated this feeling...that he was showing that he was just a weak human, unable to control his own dreams.

"I'm sorry," he finally said quietly.

The elf looked puzzled. "For what?"

"For having all those nightmares," he explained with a sigh.

"It's not your fault," Elladan said softly, gently drawing his little brother into a hug. "After everything that happened yesterday...I'd be surprised if you didn't have a few bad dreams."

Estel sniffed, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "Where's 'Ro?" he asked, noticing the younger twin was absent.

"After you went to sleep last night he said he was going to go back to the healers' wing," Elladan explained. "One of the healers promised to teach him more about spider venoms and antidotes."

"Do you think he's still there?"

"Aye...he would have come by here to let us know if he was going to be anywhere else."

Estel nodded at this, though he wished his brother were here. He felt a little selfish, though, at wanting so much comfort when Legolas was the one who was hurt.

"Would you like to go see Legolas?" Elladan asked.

The human started, staring at his brother. Visions from his nightmare flashed unbidden across his mind. "I-I don't know."

"He'll be all right," the elf said reassuringly. "Elrohir would have come back if anything had happened." Elladan studied Estel for a moment, and the younger being felt himself being scrutinized by a gaze not unlike his father's. "The best way to put your nightmare out of your mind is to see for yourself that it's not true," he finally said quietly. "At least come with me and see that he's all right. If you feel like leaving after that we can go."

Estel finally nodded in agreement, and watched as his brother dug some clean clothes out of the mess that had become their quarters (a mess that drove Elrohir mad, but with Elladan and Estel it was a losing battle to keep things neat).

He shakily dressed, hanging on to his brother's words that he'd get down to the healers and find that everything was all right. Elladan had asked him if he was ready to talk about the dreams, but Estel had refused. They were still too fresh in his mind.

"Ready?" Elladan asked, slapping one hand to his leg to check that his sword was in place, then obviously remembering that he hadn't put it on because they weren't allowed to wear weapons in the palace.

Estel followed his brother out the door and down the hall, through three cross-corridors and down two more halls, to the healers.

He hesitated in front of the door, pausing as though seeing it for the first time.

"Is something wrong?" Elladan asked.

Estel looked up. "The door...in my dream there were two, like the doors to the throne room."

Elladan smiled. "I told you; just a dream." Keeping one hand on Estel's shoulder in a supportive gesture, the elf pulled the door open and ushered his brother inside.

The human caught his breath, a little taken aback at the activity he saw in there. Evidently someone had been injured that morning, for there were two or three healers hovering around one of the other beds in the ward.

"Good morning Elladan, Estel," Celebalqua called from where she was observing a younger healer chopping fresh herbs.

"Elladan! Estel!" Elrohir jumped up from a chair off to one side, the book he had been reading falling to the floor much to the annoyance of the chief healer. "Good morning!"

Elladan couldn't quite hold back a laugh at his brother's excitement. "Are you that excited about what you were reading?"

Elrohir made a face at his twin. "No, I just wanted to tell you...Legolas has a fever!"

Human and elf stared in consternation. "Are you sure that reading all night hasn't driven you mad?" Elladan asked in mock concern.

"It means the poison has lost its hold," Elrohir retorted, ignoring his brother's jabs. "His body has recovered enough that he can fight it without all those medicines."

Estel brightened slightly at this. "Is he all right?" he asked. "I mean...how high is his fever?"

"It's only slight," Elrohir said hurriedly. "They don't even need to treat it...Celebalqua said it should disappear within a few hours, if he keeps improving."

"Can we see him?" Elladan asked.

Elrohir looked back at the healers. Celebalqua nodded, gesturing to the partitioned area with a nod. "He might be sleeping," she said cautiously.

"That's okay, we'll wake him up," Elladan retorted cheekily, earning him a swat from his twin.

The twins, bickering quietly, easily approached the bed where their friend lay while Estel came at a somewhat slower pace. In his mind he knew that his brothers and the healers were right, but he couldn't help being just a little afraid that this would be just like his nightmare.

His brothers beckoned him forward, and Estel screwed up his courage and stepped up to the edge of the bed.

He was sure everyone in the room could feel his relief. Legolas was sleeping, eyes open a crack, but there was the slightest hint of color in his cheeks where before he had been deathly pale.

"I told you he'd be fine," Elladan whispered.

Estel could only nod, sitting shakily on the vacant chair.

"Will you be all right here by yourself?" Elrohir asked, giving his twin a look that clearly said they needed to talk.

The young man looked up at his brothers. "I think so," he said with a nod.

"Good," Elladan smiled. "We may need to find some extra practice today. Aren't the archery exhibitions beginning this morning?"

Elrohir clapped one hand to his forehead. "I completely forgot!"

"You still have time," a somewhat groggy voice piped in. "Just tell the Archery Master that you want to participate."

The three brothers turned to face the bed in one accord. "Legolas!" Elladan and Elrohir exclaimed. "How do you feel this morning?" the older twin continued, crouching beside the bed to look the prince in the eye.

"I'm fine," Legolas replied, ignoring the theatrical groans from the twins.

"He feels fine, 'Dan," Elrohir said sadly.

"Dear me. He must be dying," Elladan retorted with a wink at Estel.

Estel relaxed a bit. Evidently this was some inside joke between his brothers and Legolas.

"Perhaps we should skip the exhibition," Elrohir said slowly.

Legolas shook his head. "Please, don't miss it on my account," he asked.

Elladan shot Elrohir a warning glance. "We at least need to consider it. Come on, 'Ro, let's go."

As the twins left, Estel turned back to see that the prince was shaking with laughter. "Was that as transparent to you as it was to me?" the elf asked.

"Aye," Estel sighed and sank back in his chair. "Though it's not so transparent as ''Dan—come with me, I need to check on my horse'," he added, naming another of the rather poor excuses the twins had used when they wanted to talk in private.

Legolas grinned and shifted positions slightly. "Do you suppose they think we're falling for anything?"

"Who can tell with those two," Estel replied with a shrug.

The two were silent for a few moments, Estel frantically searching for something to say. "Are you going to be able to go to the exhibition?"

"If the tyrant lets me out," Legolas replied, casting a beatific smile toward Celebalqua when the healer looked his way.

Estel couldn't help but laugh at this. "Just be glad you aren't in Imladris," he told the elf. "My father would have drugged you unconscious by now, just to make sure you don't try to get up before you're ready."

Legolas chuckled in agreement. "He's done that to me before," the prince admitted. "I always wondered why a broken leg required his 'special tea'."

"I think it comes from centuries of dealing with Elladan and Elrohir," Estel said thoughtfully. "Every time one of them gets injured the other bets on how long it will take his twin to escape the healers'."

Estel broke into a grin as he was rewarded with another laugh from the prince. It was good to see his friend recovering so rapidly—that helped dispel the nightmares of the previous night. "Were they like that when you lived with them?" he asked.

If Legolas was surprised that Estel knew he had lived in Imladris he didn't show it. "Of course," he replied. "In fact I think your father threatened to tie Elladan to his bed if he didn't keep trying to escape."

"That's one of his favorite threats," Estel chuckled.

"And I trust I will not have to use it?" Celebalqua interjected playfully, standing at the foot of the bed.

"Why ever would you?" Legolas asked innocently.

The healer simply rolled her eyes. "I came to see if you were ready to be up on your feet yet," she said.

In reply Legolas pushed the blanket back and sat up a little too quickly, groping for support on the bed as his face grayed.

"Not so fast," the healer scolded. "Your body is still weakened...these things take time."

She sat on the bed beside Legolas, placing her hand against his forehead. "You're fever's dropped a bit," she murmured. "If you can make a circuit around the room I think you might be able to make the last archery exhibition today."

Estel brightened. If the twins entered Elladan would bein the last exhibition, and Elrohir in the first the next day. "How can I help?" he asked.

"You can support the prince from one side," Celebalqua said, stepping back to show Estel what she meant. "Let him lean on you, and the two of you stand together."

The pair followed her instructions carefully, and Estel was pleased to notice that the prince's weight, slighter than either of his brothers', wasn't difficult to bear at all.

"Now walk around the room. Slowly."

He was alarmed to feel the prince shaking a bit when they'd made it halfway around. "Are you all right?" he asked in concern.

"I'm fine," Legolas whispered. "Just keep going."

It was on the tip of his tongue to call the healer, but seeing the determination on his friend's face made him change his mind. He discreetly let the prince lean more of his weight against him, supporting his friend as much as he could.

"How do you feel?" Celebalqua asked as they returned to the bed. "Did you have any dizziness?"

Legolas shook his head, wincing as she pushed his shirt up to unwrap the bandage around his shoulder.

"It looks good," the healer commented after studying the wound for a moment. "Everything is healing normally. You should regain full use of your arm in three days."

The prince nodded, and Celebalqua wound clean bandages around his shoulder. "I think we'd better put you in a sling now that we don't have to keep checking the bite."

Legolas pushed his arm through the loose sleeve of his shirt and sat patiently while the healer tied a sling around his neck and fed his left arm through it. "Just let it rest, Prince. Don't think about moving it around on your own to loosen it up; it needs rest."

The blonde elf nodded at the healer's instructions, obviously relieved to see some progress. "Will I be able to go to the exhibition?" he asked hopefully.

Celebalqua smiled. "Unless your fever returns or you suffer a dizzy spell, I don't see why not."

Estel and Legolas exchanged grins. He couldn't have been any happier, despite the lingering terror of the nightmare.

His friend was truly going to be all right, and he'd get to see his brothers in the exhibition!

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When it came time to go down to the field to watch the exhibition, Estel was surprised that Celebalqua had ordered an apprentice healer named Falmadil to accompany them. The elf in question was somewhat aloof, and only replied in monotones when he was addressed. Legolas confided to Estel that he'd overheard the apprentice arguing with Celebalqua about having to 'babysit' the prince and his human friend.

But Estel refused to let one grumpy elf's complaint damper his spirits. Legolas had almost recovered enough to walk down to the archery field on his own, but the healers didn't want to risk him collapsing and so he had to lean against Falmadil most of the way.

When they arrived on the archery field, most of the stands were already filled but there was a spot saved with the royal family for Legolas, with just enough room for Estel. Estel barely noticed the somewhat frosty look he received from one of the princesses, so focused was he on the event on the field.

The second-class archers were just finishing their exhibition, each one trying a complicated trick shot. Even though none of them succeeded, they were all congratulated with thunderous applause from the crowd.

Then the third class took the field, and Estel easily spotted his brother among the other archers. Elladan caught the human's eye and waved, nudging the archer beside him and commenting on something. Probably pointing out Estel as his brother, the young man mused.

The exhibition began with a straight show of marksmanship, each archer aiming for increasingly distant targets. No scores were called out, though Estel was sure someone was keeping track as there seemed to be bets running through the crowd. Then the archery judge began to loose moving targets—elves on the sidelines tossing clay balls or other items out for the archers to hit.

Estel was enthralled by the exhibition. Beyond mere accuracy, the archery judge led the third-class archers through complicated maneuvers and relays, some solely for the Mirkwood archers to show what they were capable of, and some for all qualified elves. He didn't even realize that well over an hour had passed until the sun struck him on the face and he realized it was nearly setting.

As a final exercise the archery judge set up the trick shot that the second-class archers had attempted, which was met with similar success. Two of the archers nearly got it, but for the most part all failed. Legolas explained that this was the sort of shot that only the fifth-class, and occasionally the fourth-class, could make.

When the third-class archers left the field, Estel was surprised to see another group of elves enter. "I thought they were only doing three classes today?" he asked Legolas.

"This is a swordsmanship exhibition," the prince explained. "One of the upper classes...my brother and brother-in-law are both in the top class. You see, originally the exhibitions were organized as a show of fighting skills, in defiance of the shadow to show that there are still capable warriors in Mirkwood and to bolster our people's courage. It's a tradition that has been going on since long before I was born, and it's likely to continue until the end of Mirkwood itself."

"I hate to interrupt this _enlightening_ conversation," Falmadil interjected. "But Celebalqua said you needed to return as soon as the archery exhibition was finished."

Estel was seething at the apprentice healer's tone, but Legolas merely raised an eyebrow. "Very well," he said with a sigh. "Estel, you can stay here if you like."

The human shrugged. "I think I'd rather come back with you," he said, fighting back a grin as the apprentice healer gave another long-suffering sigh. "My brothers will worry if they can't find me, anyway."

Legolas nodded in agreement, rolling his eyes as Falmadil insisted on helping him stand. "Maybe tomorrow we can stay longer," he offered.

"Maybe," Estel agreed, following the prince and healer back to the palace. And even if they couldn't, he was happy just knowing that Legolas was well on his way to recovering from that horrible accident, even if it meant he would still have nightmares.

_

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Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers? _

_I have a new short story up, titled _A Short Parody_. It's just a one-shot, and just something my insane brain thought up while battling writer's block._


	10. Champion of Mirkwood

_AN: Here it is...the final chapter! Well, except the epilogue. My computer had to wait until after the holidays to go to the doctor, so I was typing this with my fingers crossed and saving every thirty seconds (just kidding)._

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Chapter Ten: Champion of Mirkwood

Estel cheered as Elrohir took the field along with the other fourth-class archers. He and Legolas had all come down to watch the final exhibitions, seeing as the healers had finally given the prince a clean bill of health (with the stipulation that he try to take it easy for a few days).

"They're really good," Estel commented.

"You should see the fifth class," Legolas replied. "Tarathdur is in that class...and I believe Finen is in there as well."

"Are any other members of your family archers?"

"Just my brothers-in-law and my oldest brother, though only Brithdil is competing."

Estel nodded, having already spotted the brown-haired elf in question on the field.

"Belegdur was an archer when he was younger, but he decided to train with the sword instead. He doesn't like to participate in the exhibitions, though. Two of my sisters were archers, Eldawen and Meluial, but Eldawen is a diplomat now and Meluial retired from her patrol when she got married."

The two watched the rest of the exhibition in silence, Estel cheering loudly when Elrohir was one of the three archers who managed to complete the final trick shot.

"What about your other brother?" he asked as the archery field was cleared to make way for the fourth-class swordsmanship exhibition. "Why wasn't he in the tournament?"

"Because Aranion has already won the tournament once," Legolas explained. "It was before I was born, but he decided not to compete again."

Estel had to wonder if that meant Legolas would never enter the tournament again. But before he could ask, Elladan and Elrohir appeared to join them for the rest of the exhibitions.

He was glad that his brothers had obviously not decided to bring up his nightmares when the prince was around. He'd had another one last night...not as terrible as the first but bad none the less.

"Why didn't you try out for the sword exhibitions?" he asked his brothers.

Elladan shrugged. "We didn't come in time for evaluations."

"Maybe next time all three of us can enter."

Estel grinned, bringing his knees up to his chest and resting his folded arms across them. He had been training with the sword and he would probably be considered old enough by the time of the next tournament...it would be great if he could join the exhibitions with his brothers.

He didn't want to admit it to Legolas, but he found the sword exhibitions more interesting than the archery ones. He studied the elves intently, hoping to remember some of their exercises to practice on his own. The current elves cleared to make room for the next class—all bearing swords. He glanced at his brothers questioningly.

"Archery is very popular here," Elrohir explained. "They hold the final class for the finale."

Estel nodded, turning back to watch the elves.

Legolas pointed out his brother-in-law, Gilfaroth, who Estel had met two days ago outside the healers' ward. Estel marveled at the elves' skill, hoping he could one day match it.

Finally, the fifth class of archers took to the field.

Estel was astounded at the roar of applause that greeted the archers, and he grinned at Elrohir as his brother's words were proven true.

But they were all astounded, including the prince, when the Master of Archery invited Legolas down to fire the first shot to start off the exhibition.

An even louder thunder of applause followed the Archery Master's announcement, drowning out Legolas' protests as he indicated the sling on his arm.

But the crowd, the fifth-class archers, and the Archery Master were all insistent.

Legolas grinned. Slipping his arm out of the sling and laying it on his vacant seat, he slowly made his way down to the field where he accepted a bow and arrow from the Archery Master.

Estel caught his brothers exchanging concerned glances, and knew it was still a bit early for him to be doing something like this.

But he stood tall, though Estel could have sworn he saw just the slightest tremble in the elf's stance. He chalked it up to his imagination, as the prince showed no other signs of weakness.

The target was set up down at the end of the field, and Legolas took his stance on the starting line. Estel watched carefully as the prince drew the arrow back, his heart nearly skipping a beat when he saw the slight waver of the prince's left arm.

The arrow flew true, embedding itself in the center of the target as his first shot had done at the tournament. Even with his left arm weak from the spider's bite, Estel reflected, Legolas was still very much the tournament champion.

The crowd rose to their feet, something of a spectacle to Estel as the elves in his home were rarely this exuberant, as Legolas left the field so the exhibition could begin. His face a little paler than before, but cheeks flushed with excitement, he made his way back to where Estel and his brothers were waiting.

"You know, 'Dan, I think the prince might have a future as an archer," Elrohir said teasingly.

Legolas made a wry face as he sat down, massaging his shoulder and gently slipping the sling back on. "It's remarkable, considering you were my first teachers," he retorted.

"Is that what's wrong with me?" Estel asked before his brothers could retoret, shying away as one of themswatted at him. "Should I enlist a wood-elf for a tutor?"

"You'll have to enlist one for a bodyguard if you don't hold your tongue," Elladan growled playfully.

"Oh, but you two make such good bodyguards," Legolas interjected, leaning forward to rest his good arm across his knees. "Why, I don't believe I was 'thronged' at any point during the tournament."

Estel burst out laughing at the look on his brothers faces, laughing even harder as Elladan remembered what the prince was talking about.

"Someday, Legolas," Elladan mock-glared at the prince. "I will have my revenge."

Legolas laughed, but suddenly winced and pressed one hand to his head.

"What is it?" Elrohir asked sharply, pushing past his brothers to be beside the prince.

"Nothing, I just got a little lightheaded, that's all," Legolas twisted to get away from Elrohir, who was trying to pull his eyelids open to check his pupils. "I am fine, Elrohir."

"You don't look it," the younger twin commented. "Maybe we should go back."

"No," the prince argued. "There's nothing wrong with me...and the exhibition's almost over. We don't need to go back."

Elrohir looked doubtful, but finally returned to his place beside Elladan.

Estel, his heart back in its place from where it had jumped into his throat, carefully sat back beside the prince. "Is that Finen?" he asked quietly, pointing out a lighthaired elf.

"Yes, and there are the two archers from Lorien who made it to the sixth round, and there's Tarathdur," Legolas said, indicating the other elves. Estel recognized a few of them from the tournament, but was startled to see that many Mirkwood archers of this level hadn't even entered the tournament.

"Some of them have won in previous years," the prince explained when Estel asked why. "Some just don't want to participate. And there are a few who were on patrol duty, or ready to move out if danger were sensed nearby. Like the spiders."

Estel winced at the mention of the spiders. "It's a good thing, too," he said.

Legolas smiled, right hand absently rubbing his left shoulder. "That it is."

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The exhibitions concluded, Estel, his brothers, and the prince waited for most of the crowd to disperse before making their way to the palace. They pretended it was because they were talking animatedly about something, but Estel knew it was because they needed to go slow and Legolas didn't really want anyone coming up behind them.

And so, when the gathered elves had gone back to the palace or chosen to wander the grounds the four carefully made their way down the stairs and started the walk back.

Estel was energized by the excitement in the air, and found himself chafing at the pace they were going. His brothers pulled slightly ahead, talking about one of the archery stunts. Legolas was keeping up, but Estel noticed he looked tired.

"Are you all right?" he asked, concerned when he saw his friend waver.

Legolas nodded, pausing for a moment to rest. "I didn't expect it to be this hard," he admitted.

"Do you want some help?"

"No, I'll be..." Legolas' voice trailed off as one hand went to his head, and he stumbled. Estel caught him to keep him from falling, relieved when the prince immediately got his feet back under him.

"El?" Estel called, knowing both his brothers would turn. They did, and ran back the few yards they'd gotten ahead when they saw the prince leaning against their brother.

"You overdid it today," Elrohir said with a sigh, supporting Legolas on one side, careful of the sling.

"Aye," Elladan agreed, supporting him on the other. "You'll be fine after a bit of rest, though, right 'Ro?"

"Right," the younger twin affirmed. "Come on, Estel," he beckoned his brother, and they easily found a side-door into the palace.

"Not the healers," Legolas protested as they began to turn down that corridor. "They just let me go this morning."

"But what if you injured something in your shoulder?"

"It just aches," the prince said. "If you take me back and tell Celebalqua what I did she'll lock me in there for the next three days as punishment," he said, a pleading tone in his voice.

The twins glared at Legolas, but Estel could see them softening under the prince's pleading gaze.

"All right," Elladan relented. "But we'll stay with you, just in case something happens."

Legolas grinned. "If it will make you feel any better I'll go to the healers if my shoulder gets any worse."

"It would make me feel better for you to go now," Elrohir grumped, turning to head down to the royal wing of the palace.

"But the award ceremony is tonight," Estel piped up. "You wouldn't want him to miss that, would you?"

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances. "No," Elladan finally said with a sigh. "I suppose not."

Estel grinned, following the three elves down the hall. Then he stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. The award ceremony. He'd have to wear his formal robes again.

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The young human resisted the urge to tug his sleeves further down his wrists as he stood side by side with his brothers back out on the archery field that night. Elladan was wearing the more comfortable of his two sets of robes (the maroon set), and Elrohir was wearing the only pair he'd brought (much like Estel).

For once, Elladan had been the one to tease his twin about being unprepared.

Lit torches lined the field, illuminating the elves who had gathered for this special occasion. Estel gasped as he caught sight of the Elvenking, resplendent in his royal robes with a crown of summer flowers in his hair. The rest of the royal family except Legolas, including Belegdur who had come back for the ceremony, stood gathered behind the king.

Applause began toward the far end of the field, where the elves parted to reveal the Archery Master, followed by two honor guards (Ceretín and Relfían, Estel noticed) and Legolas. The clapping rose to a roar as the procession continued down the field, stopping in front of the king. The Archery Master held his hands up for silence.

"King Thranduil," the elf intoned in a loud, formal voice. "I present Legolas Thranduilion, Archer of Mirkwood and champion of the tournament."

Thranduil stood as Legolas approached, picking up the ceremonial arrow that Estel knew was engraved with Legolas' name and the date of the tournament.

Legolas received the arrow and knelt before his father, and Thranduil placed one hand on his son's head and looked down at him with a tender smile. "Rise, Legolas Thranduilion," the king said clearly.

"Champion of Mirkwood."

_

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Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers? _

_Just the kinda short epilogue left...but we have company coming for Christmas so I won't be able to put it up until Monday._

_Happy Holidays, everybody! _


	11. Epilogue: Until We Meet Again

_AN: Funny story...I didn't think I'd get a chance to work on this today because I was planning to finish cleaning and baking before my oldest brother and his wife came in for Christmas. Then I looked at the cookie recipe and realized the dough had to chill overnight...so I crossed baking off my list and finished this instead. Hope you like it!_

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Epilogue: Until We Meet Again

"I told you you overdid it yesterday," Elladan said triumphantly.

Estel and his brothers had been packing to leave that morning when a servant came to their suite with a message that Legolas was back in the healers' ward. Celebalqua had been most displeased when she heard about his participation, minor though it was, in the exhibition and the spells of lightheadedness.

"And I told you that she'd lock me in here for three days," Legolas retorted. He shifted his position and winced as he accidentally pulled at his shoulder.

"Are you all right?" Estel asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," Legolas said with a sigh. "She's overreacting."

"Are you sure? Are you sure you're not underreacting?" Elrohir asked.

The prince made a face. "My shoulder is just a bit sore."

"And it should be!" Celebalqua exclaimed, bustling over with a mug of tea, and Estel recognized the familiar smell of a common sleeping herb, wondering why she didn't disguise it like his father did. "I warned you not to use your arm, didn't I? Now it will take even longer to recover. Just be glad your friends are leaving today so you don't have to waste their visit lying in bed."

Legolas' face fell, and Estel could see the healer wince. "I didn't mean that," she said softly.

"We know," Elladan neatly took the mug away from her. "We'll make sure he drinks this, just give us a moment to say goodbye."

Celebalqua nodded, and turned away as one of her assistants called her.

Estel looked down, saddened. He didn't want to go...he and Legolas were quickly becoming good friends and he wanted to spend more time with the prince.

"So when will we see you again?" Elrohir asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and laughing as Legolas made a face a wriggled away from him.

"Let's not wait another six years this time," Elladan added.

Estel winced. Six years was nothing to his brothers and the prince...but in another six year's he'd be an adult and, if his brothers were serious about his training, he'd be joining the rangers.

"Yes, let's wait seven," Elrohir said lightly.

"'Ro!" Elladan complained, punching his brother on the arm.

Legolas chuckled, wryly rubbing his injured shoulder. "I think I might be able to visit you in a couple of months."

The young human slowly looked up, catching the prince's eye. He felt a smile growing, and couldn't quite hold it back. "Really?"

The blonde elf nodded. "If my father gives me permission...which he should...you should see me before the leaves finish changing."

Estel wanted to hug Legolas in joy, but since the prince was injured he settled for throwing his arms around Elladan, chuckling when the elf protested that he was still holding the tea.

"Now drink this," Elrohir ordered, taking the mug from Elladan and handing it to the prince. "Drink it down and we'll say our farewells and leave you to sleep."

"Let's not say farewell," the prince protested, grimacing as he sipped the tea. "Let's say 'until we meet again'."

"All right," Elrohir nodded, patting Legolas on his good shoulder. "Until we meet again, Legolas."

Elladan and Estel added their greetings, and they waited until the herbs took effect and the prince slipped into sleep before leaving the ward.

Estel paused on the threshold and took one final look back. "Until we meet again," he repeated softly, and turned to follow his brothers.

_The End _

_

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Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers? _

_AN: Aww...it's over. But there are other stories to come!_

_Here's a short preview for my next story:_ Fear No Darkness. _In this part of the story Legolas is a young elfling, comparable in age to a five-year-old human._

Legolas curled up into as small a ball as possible against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the darkness. His whole body ached, but his head and arm were the worst.

He didn't think his arm was broken—at least, it wasn't bent at an odd angle like Ceretín's had been when he broke his last year. But it hurt...more than anything he'd ever felt.

Legolas started when he heard the hissing from the corner. In all his misery he had forgotten about the spider...it was only the size of a half-grown cat, but it was obviously angry.

He was worried it might be a baby spider, since it was nowhere near the size of the spiders in the stories his brother-in-law had told him. What would happen if the mother spider came back?

He curled up even tighter, his chest hitching in fear as he heard legs skittering his direction...

_MWAHAHAHAHA...I mean, look for the prologue sometime next week, and the story to begin in the new year. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!_


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